Jazz Baby Hits Her Stride: Lyrics to my songs
All Words & Music by Amy Barlow Liberatore
Copyright 1994-2009, Beehat Baby Music/SESAC Affiliate
Coming soon: Lyrics from "The Confidential Dark"
Tioga Moon
Words and Music by Amy Barlow Liberatore, copyright 1994
Tioga moon starts her song around eight
High above the maple, the color of marmalade
Spills on the rooftops and dances on the dewdrops
And drenches all the sumac in the glade
Tioga moon, shining clear and bright
Tioga moon, shining on you tonight
When Cape Cod gets colder, and chills your shoulder
That old Tioga moon will keep you in her sight
Oh, say, when the gardenin's done today, let's escape the sun
And run off to a place I know where there's shade
A little glade where the jack-in-the-pulpit grows
And then, we'll linger on 'til after ten(derly you'll call my name)
Then we'll start to whispering low
While the owl's eyes and the fireflies put on their show
Tioga moon, like a big brass bowl
Tioga moon shines like a prophet's soul
When Buffalo winds blow snow through your window
That old Tioga moon'll make your insides glow
So stay well, sleep warm, when the cold starts to bite
That old Tioga moon will be your blanket tonight
NOTE: The reference to Buffalo - I didn't know we'd end up living there for years! Jack Martin, an old friend and mentor - and glorious appreciator of all females - once told me of a gig in Buffalo where the motel was so cheap, there was cardboard over the bedroom window... and the snow did indeed blow on him as he slept. So Jack, that line is for you. Rest in peace, Coach.
The Caravan Lounge
Words and Music by Amy Barlow Liberatore, copyright 1994
(Live cut - "This is a song about stripper envy...")
In my hometown, there's a place of renown
Where the uptight fight for the right to get down
Times are tougher, rents are rougher - so why should I suffer?
I'm gonna bleach my hair, buy me a G-String, and work at the Caravan Lounge
Get a mess of butterflies tattooed on my thighs, and do the Caravan scrounge
I'm gonna bump for my bus fare each and ev'ry night
Where my biggest problem is my cellulite
I'll quit my job at Sears, buy some see-through brassieres
And work at the Caravan Lounge
I'll do The Hut-Sut Song in a cellophane sarong
When I'm dancin' at the Caravan Lounge
Wear satin lingerie - smear on Jean Nate
And do the Caravan scrounge
I'm gonna shimmy for the gimme where there ain't no hassles
If you think you like my tail, you're gonna love my tassels
Come by 'most any night, there's be my end in sight
When I'm dancing at the Caravan Lounge
Nothin' could be finer than to strip in silk from China, at the Caravan Lounge
Applause'll roll like thunder where I'm strolling in my underwear
At the Caravan Lounge
I got the thigh-high leathers from The House Of Joy
I got some falsies, make Dolly Parton look like a boy
I'm gonna find me a feather boa - secure me some pasties
And work and the Caravan, dance at the Caravan
(If you want "the works," you pay advance at the Caravan)
Bump, hump, jump, at the Caravan Lounge
NOTE: My mother, Charlotte Barlow (or Jan Long, her stage name) loved this song. She had an outrageous sense of humor and knew this was tongue in cheek! While it's true Binghamton has recently had its share of tragedy in the American Civic Center shootings, the San Antonio Express said of my recent appearance on the Riverwalk, "(Amy) shows another side of Binghamton - the one that makes music."
Bring Back My Heart
Words and Music by Amy Barlow Liberatore, copyright 1996
Thank you for the visit, it really was sublime
To catch up on the news after all this time
I packed in such a hurry, some things got left behind
So if you wouldn't mind...
My toothbrush and my dental floss, I left them on the sink
And a lone Peruvian earring, in the living room, I think
Some pictures of my daughter on a table by the door
And my lingerie we left scattered on the floor
It's really quite the laundry list - but there's one more thing I missed
Bring back my heart, return it to me
At the first convenient opportunity
It had just come off the shelf, and I had planned to keep it to myself
I didn't leave it in the bedroom - I'm not blase
That's not the place where hearts are given away
Perhaps it was the restaurant, where you took my hand
And told me life had not worked out exactly as you planned
You asked me whether I had hopes to share my life again
And I told you God had plans for me, but wouldn't tell me when
My heart was mine alone... and until we kissed, I thought it had turned to stone
Bring back my heart, we'll see what's in store
Make my office gossip when you show up at the door
Bring back my heart, but until you do, I know it's safe with you
So put it in your pocket, keep it close
Hold it with the treasures you love most
And when you return it, here is what I'll do:
I will scent it with roses, wrap it in lace
Lay it in the lining of a golden case
And I will give it right back to you
The Day I Saw An Angel Fly (For Jeffery French)
Words and Music by Amy Barlow Liberatore, copyright 2001
In the 80s, on a big iron bed
My friend Jeffery, and a sign that read:
BODY FLUID PRECAUTIONS
The nurse came in and whispered to me
"Put on a mask and gloves - it's for protection, you see"
And in defiance of the rules, I lay the gloves aside and wiped his fever cool
When it was time to leave, Jeffery tugged at my sleeve, and spoke of...
Angels, flying free
He said, Angels, they're waiting for me
They'll take away my fever and fear
They'll give me wings and release me from here
We've all of us, angels-to-be... I hope you see them when they come for me
When I go and you're missing me so, just turn your face to the sky
And say you saw an angel fly
So many years, so many goodbyes
Too many breaks in our family ties...
Sisters, brothers, friends and lovers
A little news of research each day, and in the meantime, we pray
We keep on working for the best
But when the battle's lost, and someone's laid to rest
Jeffery's words come back to me... I close my eyes and I see...
Angels, all around; angels, on holy ground
They see my tears and soothe all my pain
They give me courage to face life again
We're all of us, angels-to-be... I know I feel them when they comfort me
I'm not sure of too much in this world, but I know you'll never really cry
Until you see an angel fly
Can't remember where I learned to laugh, but
I know I learned to cry
The day I saw an angel fly
NOTE: Jeffery died a week after I told him I was pregnant with my daughter. His beloved Christopher made sure he was able to stay at home and pass away in his own bed, in his favorite nightshirt. Christopher is still with us, and this song is dedicated to both of them.
Now That I've Seen You At Sunrise
Words and Music by Amy Barlow Liberatore, copyright 1996
Morning breaks, and we're awake, side by side
Early dawn, a lazy yawn, sleepy eyed
I've seen moonlight shine in your glass of wine
But morning suits you fine
Now that I've seen you at sunrise, I don't want anything less
Countless hours in countless bars and smoky clubs
After-fives and hourlong drives to little roadside pubs
Candlelight's a romantic sight
But I see our love in a different light
Now that I've seen you at sunrise, I don't want anything less
Last night it seems, I had a dream that you were here to stay
How'd you feel 'bout getting real and doing this every day?
'Cause kissing you "good morning" beats kissing you "good night"
I'm giving you fair warning, this feeling's hard to fight
Half past dawn, the coffee's on, and you smile and say,
"Table's set, and honey, don't forget to buy some milk today"
Well, I drink my coffee black, but something tells me you'll be back
And since I've seen you at sunrise, I don't want anything less
Now that I've seen you at sunrise, dawn's early light shining in your eyes
Now that I've seen you at sunrise, I don't want anything less
The Best I Have To Give
For Chris and Jimmy's Wedding
Words and Music by Amy Barlow Liberatore, copyright 1996
Who was I before we met? Happy, at first glance
Successful in my own way, but a bystander at the dance
Who were you? A loving soul - how could we have planned
That we would end up side by side
Here and now, hand in hand
The part of me that loves you is all I need to live
The part of me that's loved by you is the best I have to give
And after all the lonely years, I finally found someone
Who'll help me in my weakest hour, and challenge me when I'm strong
When we look back on our lives, I know someday we'll see
That God was guiding us along
Step by step, you and me
The part of me that loves you is all I need to live
The part of me that's loved by you is the best I have to give
True love is made of this, the friendship and the caring
Soft as your eyes, sweet as your kiss, and warm as the nights we're sharing
The part of me that loves you is all I need to live
The part of me that's loved by you
Is the best I have to give
NOTE: A few years after losing Jeffery, Christopher found Jim Ricketts, a talented songwriter and one of the funniest, most talkative men, a real sweetheart. Did we ever have a great time decorating the cabaret where they were married (except no license). Both in tuxes (FYI, it's not always one guy in drag), and this was my wedding present to them. I've sung it at many straight weddings (the ones WITH the license). One woman said to me, "Why, it just sounds like two people in love," to which I replied with a smile, "That would be the point, right?" One night, after a quiet dinner and snuggling by the fireplace, Jimmy decided to retreat and meditate... and Chris found him an hour later, gone. I know many straight folks who have been widowed once - Christopher has been widowed twice, but he continues to be a hopeful, shining presence in our lives.
(Written in a snit after looking at the entertainment section of a newspaper and realizing there was more karaoke and trivia in town that evening than live music. Dedicated to anyone who's ever lost a gig to this technological nightmare, and to audiences who miss hearing real musicians.)
Long, long time ago
Can you all remember when piano bars were still in style
I’d sit right down and sing my tune
And people would draw near me soon
And Gershwin and Berlin would make them smile
But one day - it still makes me shiver
The big bad box it was delivered
Sat there like a vulture
To pick bones off our culture
I must admit I had to cry
When my way of paying rent went dry
American culture went bye-bye
The day live music died
Lean, mean Karaoke machine
All it takes’s a coupla drunks to read the words off a screen
We musicians now are obsolete, and we scream
Karaoke’s how my living was fried
That is how my gig up and died
Do you know “Mood For Love” by heart?
Well I did from the very start
But Karaoke has no class
They stand on tables swigging beers
They don’t know they all have tin ears
They would not know music if it bit em in the ass
Well I know I once did really well
Singing standards, now it’s gone to hell
American Idol beats the drum
The inmates run the asylum
I was a rhinestoned beauty in a little black dress
And now my life is just a mess
I’m unemployed and quite depressed
Because live music died
Now sing it with me,
Mean green Karaoke machine
All it takes’s a coupla drunks to read the words off a screen
Musicians now are obsolete, and we scream
Karaoke’s how my living was fried
This is how my gig up and died
Now for ten years we’ve been scraping by
Playing weddings on the side
But that’s not how it should be done
Cause my main gig is a crappy job
In a calling center run by a slob
And my headset is my new microphone
A guy I know, used to play guitar
He does trivia nights down at Curly’s bar
He was the king of the frets
Now he’s quizzing drunks on the Mets
And while Billy Joel collects royalties
“Piano Man” is sung off the TV
By an alcoholic with DTs
Because live music died
Now sing it with me,
Lean, mean Karaoke machine
All it takes’s a coupla drunks to read the words off a screen
Musicians now are obsolete, and we scream
Karaoke’s how my living was fried
This is how my gig up and died
(Slow)
I used to sing Billie Holiday
Sinatra, Eckstine, Doris Day
The people used to sing along
Stardust the ship, I was the rudder
Now it simply makes me shudder
They scream the words to every single song
So in the bars, Bob Seger rules
Madonna and some other fools
And maybe if you’re lucky
They’ll all sing “Rubber Ducky”
And the gods who wrote the songs I sing
Gershwin, Hoagy, Duke, Shearing
In their graves they’re all turning
Because live music died
Let’s go unplug the
Lean, mean Karaoke machine
All it takes’s a coupla drunks to read the words off a screen
Musicians are becoming obsolete, and we scream
Karaoke’s how my living was fried
This is how my gig up and died
