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A
Girl Could Get Used to This
Copyright ©
2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
Champagne at
poolside, a walk in the sunshine
A waltz at
twilight, a bottle of good wine
Dark chocolate on
a velvety kiss—
A girl could get
used to this.
Desert Breeze
drifting in with the starlight
A bubblin' tub and
my honey at midnight
Steam risin' with
a heavenly hiss—
A girl could get
used to this.
Runaways and
getaways, far as we can go
Let's not tell the
folks back home—they don't have to know
Cactus ablaze with
lights in December
A day's adventure,
a night to remember
House full of
worries I don't even miss
A girl could get
used to this
Peel me a grape
and rub my feet—this is the life.
Who said I
couldn't be a princess and a wife?
Sand in my shoes
and the sun on my shoulder
Don't wanna go
back home where it's colder.
I wanna lie here
and wallow in bliss—
A girl could get
used to this,
A girl could get
used to this.
A
Little Loyalty
Copyright ©
1982, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
I know you like
you know me.
That's a taste of
pure reality.
The poet said,
"Grow old with me,"
Heaven knows,
" the best is yet to be."
Then opportunity
knocks and you open the locks
And you just can't
find the door
For the curtains
in colorful array.
But when you go
for the box, are you caught on the rocks
Of uncertainty and more?
Are you worried
that you've thrown the prize away?
I'm looking for a
little loyalty.
Give it here,
that's what you'll get from me.
Take my part or
turn away
It's my ball, and
I'll decide who'll play.
Do as I say, not
as I do.
Stick by me, and I
will stay with you.
Because the
gallery's full of illusion and bull
And it's filling
far too deep.
And the wading
gets messier each day.
So if you're
trying to pull your eyes from the wool
And the path
becomes too steep,
Just listen to the
words I have to say:
I'm looking for a
little loyalty.
Give it here,
that's what you'll get from me
I'm looking for a
little loyalty.
Give it here,
that's what you'll get from me.
Give it here,
that's what you'll get from me.
Devil
Wind
Copyright ©
1981, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
In a tiny stucco
cottage in a California town
Lives a mousy
little woman in a frowsy dressing gown.
In the bedroom
sleeps her husband, never knowing that his wife
Stands by the
kitchen sink and runs her thumb along her knife.
It came roaring
off the desert like a demon doing speed.
Murder was its
flower and the mountains were its seed, oh-oh
Devil wind, you
blow nobody good.
Before you blow me
away, I'd kill you if I could.
If I could.
In a dingy desert
roadhouse on a hot September night
The pinball pings
and the jukebox sings in the purple neon light.
Carmela's sweatin'
bullets as the circumstance grows grim.
Jose blames Juan
Delgado, but we all know it's the wind
That sits brooding
on the barroom like a bird forsaking flight,
Sowing seeds of
discontent and hatching up a fight, oh-oh
Devil wind, you
blow nobody good.
Before you blow me
away, I'd kill you if I could,
If I could.
Some marvel at
your menace, too transfixed to run away
To the safety of
the forest and a cooler, calmer day.
Some see a savage
beauty in your fierce and fiery breath.
Some call you
Santa Ana. But me, I call you Death.
Some surrender to
the demon long before the game is played.
Why do people fear
the reaper when it's the wind that wields the blade? Oh-oh,
Devil wind, you
blow nobody good
Before you blow me
away, I'd kill you if I could, oh-oh-oh,
Devil wind, you
blow nobody good.
Before you blow me
away, I'd kill you if I could,
If I could.
Little
Tomorrow
Copyright ©
1999, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
Good night, my
little tomorrow, good night.
Good night, my
piece of the future, good night.
I look into your
little eyes so innocent and calm,
Tiny hand that
fits into a corner of my palm.
Grabbing for my
finger as you hold on firm and tight,
Good night, good night.
Good night, my
little tomorrow, good night.
Good night, my
piece of the future, good night.
Everything I ever
dreamed is realized in you.
Every hope and
every fear, but still somehow I knew
That even when it
all goes wrong, your smile will make it right.
Good night, good night.
Now, I can't give
you every edge that you will ever need.
I can't give you
perfect pitch, or superhuman speed.
But I can give you
shelter in the shadow of my stride.
I can give me
heritage, and you can give me pride.
Good night, my
little tomorrow, good night.
Good night, my
piece of the future, good night.
Sooner than you
know, you'll find someone to share your days.
Now you tower over
me. I strain to meet your gaze.
Some day you'll
look down into a crib and you will see
A smiling,
laughing legacy
That looks like
both of you (and maybe me)
And gazing down,
you'll whisper tenderly,
"Good night,
good night,
"Good night
my little tomorrow, good night."
Fais
Do Do
Copyright ©
1999, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
Hey, prenez-moi au
fais do do.
Come on, Papa,
let's all go.
Don't you know
these feet were made for dancin'?
Well, the cane is
cut and the corn is high.
Dinner dishes are
done and dry.
A moon is rising
up above the bayou.
Summer's gone and
the fall is here.
Gettin' cool and
the air is clear.
Hey, this is
Lou'siane, and not Ohio.
I can see that
Mama needs to wear her brand-new dress.
I just caught her
twirlin' by the mirror.
I can see the
baby, she ain't ready yet to rest.
Take me to the
fais do do. Come on Papa, let's all go.
Don't you know
these feet were made for dancin'?
I can see the
roadhouse light shinin' in the bayou light
Allons, Papa,
allons au fais do do.
Well, there's a
boy down there and he sure is fine.
Some sweet day
gonna make him mine
But Mama looks at
him and gets disgusted.
Now, never mind
them ruby lips.
Never mind them
swivel hips.
I swear to you,
Papa, he can be trusted.
For when he plays
that ol' squeeze-box, he plays it just for me.
I'm the one to who
he will be faithful.
I can see it in
his eyes, oh Mama, can't you see?
Take me to the
fais do do. Come on, Papa, let's all go.
Don't you know
these feet were made for dancin'?
I can see the
roadhouse light shinin' in the bayou light.
Allons, Papa,
allons au fais do do.
Now the baby needs
you holdin' her to dance her off to sleep,
Rockin' to the
rhythm of that two-step.
I'll be good, oh
Mama, it's a promise I can keep.
Take me to the
fais do do. Come on, Papa, let's all go.
Don't you know
these feet were made for dancin'?
I can see the
roadhouse light shinin' in the bayou light.
Allons, Papa,
allons au fais do do.
You gotta take me
to the fais do do. Come on, Papa, let me go.
Can't you tell
that Mama's toes are tappin'?
Hurry up, it's
gettin' late. I don't wanna sit and wait.
Allons, Papa,
allons au fais do do.
Come on, come on,
let's go
To the fais do do.
Pass
the Bottle
Copyright ©
1983, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
Guests are leaving
and the party is done.
Guess it's gettin'
on that time.
But our evening's
only begun.
Pass the bottle,
pour the wine.
Kids are sleeping
safe and warm in their beds.
We should take
that as a sign.
Time to focus on
romance instead.
Pass the bottle,
pour the wine.
It's over for the
others, so
Let's have
ourselves another, oh,
We're alone and
we're free.
So what if it is
gettin' late?
The sandman will
just have to wait.
We'll keep the
moon company.
You and me against
the rest of the night
And that night is
lookin' fine.
Clear the dishes,
dim all the lights.
Pass the bottle,
pour the wine.
A quiet, empty
living room,
Lit up only by the moon
And the music is low.
Everybody's all
gone home.
This moment is for
us alone.
Who are we to let
it go?
Close your eyes,
but don't you drift into sleep.
Open wide, oh baby mine.
Brandied kisses,
silent and deep.
Pass the bottle,
pour the wine.
Pass the bottle,
pour the wine.
Pass the bottle,
pour the wine.
If
Pigs Could Fly
Copyright ©
1999, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
If pigs could fly
There would never
be a famine or a war.
We wouldn't lock
the door
For crime would be
no more.
If pigs could fly
We would never
ever need a root canal.
The dentist is
your pal when swine can soar.
If pigs could fly,
then cake would make us thin.
And calories?
They're history!
So pass the pie again.
If pigs could fly
We would never
ever have to mow the lawn.
We'd sleep in way
past dawn if pigs could fly.
If pets could drive
Every cigarette
would smell like vintage wine,
But taste like turpentine.
You'd quit in
record time.
If pets could drive
We would never
have to pay another tax
And we could all
relax our worried minds.
If pets could
drive, then catnip would grow wild.
And hairballs
would be precious as
A painting by your child.
If pets could drive
Every car would
have a booster driver's seat
And maybe if we're
sweet, they'll let us ride.
If pigs could fly
Everyone would
take a turn as President.
And every cent you spent
Would cancel out
your rent.
If pets could drive
We would have to
hang our heads outside the car.
A gallon would go
farther than the sky
If pets could
drive and pigs could fly.
Fog
Copyright ©
1981, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
Black kid battin'
fungoes in the alley and his best friend shaggin' flies.
"L"
train screamin', shootin' through the valley past the lake and the
factory skies.
Past the
burned-out houses and the see-through blouses and the Latin lovers' cries.
There's a fog
movin' in across the city and it's coverin' up our eyes.
And it's a fog,
fog, rollin' off the water, now.
Look at that
mother roll.
I said a fog, fog,
foggy in the city and it's foggy down in my soul.
Uh huh huh. Uh huh
huh huh huh huh huh
Uh huh huh, uh huh
huh, uh huh huh huh.
Uh huh huh. Uh huh
huh huh huh huh huh
Uh huh huh, uh huh
huh, huh huh-uh.
Blackbird sittin'
darkly in the lattice of a honey locust tree.
Nighttime creepin'
sneakin' slowly at us, slippin' in by sly degree
Past the river
levees and abandoned Chevys and the gang-graffitied walls.
City sky breathes
so hot and heavy you could swear the air had balls.
And it's a fog,
fog, rollin' off the water, now.
Look at that
mother roll.
I said a fog, fog,
foggy in the city and it's foggy down in my soul.
Uh huh huh. Uh huh
huh huh huh huh huh
Uh huh huh, uh huh
huh, uh huh huh huh.
Uh huh huh. Uh huh
huh huh huh huh huh
Uh huh huh, uh huh
huh, huh huh-uh
Blackness movin'
in across the city, covered up by mists of white.
Whirlin' swirlin',
glorious and gritty as it tiptoes through the night.
Over tugboat
whistles, all the passion sizzles as it rises from the streets.
Cold front, hot
front, isobar collision and we're steamin' up the sheets.
And it's a fog,
fog, rollin' off the water, now.
Look at that
mother roll.
I said a fog, fog,
foggy in the city and it's foggy down in my soul.
Uh huh huh. Uh huh
huh huh huh huh huh
Uh huh huh, uh huh
huh, uh huh huh huh.
Uh huh huh. Uh huh
huh huh huh huh huh
Uh huh huh, huh uh
huh, huh huh-uh.
Ink
and Pen
Copyright ©
1999, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
I bought a brand
new pen today.
I filled it up
with ink and promises.
I held it in my
hand and let it catch the light,
And it said,
"Be the first
to work with me.
"If you will
take me home, I'll work for you."
It fell into my
heart, so what else could I do?
Give me a notebook
and a nib of gold
And a good guitar nearby
And watch those
notes and notions fly.
Some people say
the staff of life is bread
And that the stuff
of life is blood
They've got it
wrong, they'll get it wrong again.
I say it's really
ink and pen.
I got a new old
fountain pen,
Already full of
ink and history.
I held it in my
hand and let it speak to me,
And it said,
"What a
lovely irony!
"An eBay
auction brought me home to you—
"The old
delivered by the new."
Give me a notebook
and a nib of gold
And some ink of
any hue
And watch my words
flow free and true.
Some people say
the staff of life is bread
And that the stuff
of life is blood
I told them once,
I'll tell 'em once again,
I know it's only
ink and pen.
It came engraved,
"From Mother, June 1920."
Who knows to whom
or why?
How can a stick of
rubber and a piece of metal
Hold the key to
days gone by?
Now, it wou't
write through butter or under water
And all too often
it runs dry.
But give it clean
blank paper and a heart that's open
And it makes me
laugh or cry.
The scales of
justice or of melody?
They're only ideas
in the air.
It takes a hand to
write 'em down, my friend.
They owe their
lives to ink and pen.
I owe this song to
ink and pen.
I owe it all to
ink and pen.
Vote
Early
Copyright ©
1982, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
I am your friendly
precinct captain. I own the whole neighborhood.
I know every crack
in every sidewalk, and I can fix ya but good.
And I know how you
vote in the primary, 'cause your ballot is easily seen.
So don't you go
pickin' the wrong one...if you've grown attached to your spleen.
Vote early, vote
often, vote hearty.
To thine
Alderman's own self be true.
Just be the life
of the Party,
Or the Party will
be the death of you.
I learned my licks
from Old Man Daley at Rosehill Cemetery.
Now, to you they
may be just dead bodies, but they're valuable voters to me.
'Cause they never
question my candidates, and they go where I tell 'em to go.
And they'll never
canvass for Common Cause, or the IVI-IPO, oh,
Vote early, vote
often, vote hearty.
To thine
Alderman's own self be true.
Just be the life
of the Party,
Or the Party will
be the death of you.
Now, I may sound
like a sonofabitch, but you better believe what I say,
Or I'll make your
life a living Hell, beginning on Primary Day.
So get yer ass
down to da polling place, and vote like I told ya to do.
Or we won't pick
up your garbage...we'll have it delivered to you. Oh,
Vote early, vote
often, vote hearty.
To thine
Alderman's own self be true.
Just be the life
of the Party,
Or the Party will
be the death of you.
A
Man Could Hurt Himself
Copyright ©
1983, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
Just another day.
The sun's awake
before you open your eyes.
Time to take
another look at the lies
You told when you
were closin' in for the kill.
Just another day.
You rise and cut
another notch in your belt.
Was it really
satisfaction you felt
When your spirit
triumphed over his will?
A man could hurt
himself. You'd better watch what you do.
A man could hurt
himself on you.
Just another face,
But one that puts
a Botticelli to shame.
Hearts quicken
when they mention your name.
You leave a trail
of broken dreams in your wake.
Just another face
Above a body
carried supple and high.
Lives turn upon
the curve of your thigh.
You're known to
bend, but fabled never to break.
A man could hurt
himself. You'd better watch what you do.
A man could hurt
himself on you.
Flip your hair
back over your shoulder,
Velvet skin and
elegant bone.
Steely eyes that
blaze as they get colder.
Keep those edges
keenly honed.
Just another dream,
But one that
glistens damp and shiny as dew.
Fact or
fancy—does it matter to you?
It matters to the
one who's callin' your name.
Just another dream,
But one you've
sown the seeds of countless nights.
You slip away
before they turn on the lights.
Players
change...the script is always the same.
A man could hurt
himself. You'd better watch what you do.
A man could hurt
himself on you.
A man could hurt
himself. You'd better watch what you do.
A man could hurt
himself on you.
He could hurt
himself on you.
He could hurt
himself on you.
He could hurt
himself on you.
Ghosts
and Angels
Copyright ©
1999, 2000 by S. Andina and Smash&Grab Music (ASCAP)
Looking slowly—up
and down the avenue.
Am I dreaming, or
do I really see them?
Clinking glasses,
strings tuning noisily.
Can it be that I'm
the only one who hears them?
Oh...ghosts and angels
Take control over
my memory.
Oh...are they
ghosts or angels?
It doesn't matter
as long as they watch over me,
Ghosts and angels.
Cappucino-steam
whoosh, it sings to me.
I can hear their
voices. Won't you believe me?
You may tell me
it's just a trick of memory (just a trick)
Those sweet old
harmonies? They will not leave me.
Oh...ghosts and angels
Take control over
my memory.
Oh...are they
ghosts or angels?
It doesn't matter
as long as they watch over me,
Ghosts and angels.
Bartenders, piano sounds,
Guitars and coffee grounds
Before my eyes and ears—
You say they've disappeared.
Way late into the night,
Owner shuts out
the light,
Turns as she nears
her car, and whispers,
"Good night,
little bar."
On such a Quiet Knight
There's No Exit in sight.
Oh, Earl of melody—
Shed some
Amazingrace on me.
They are with me:
each voice from long ago,
All those faces
and those places I've been missing.
And so I ask them
each time I write or sing,
If they would fold
their wings,
Sit down and give
a listen.
Oh...ghosts and angels
Take control over
my memory.
Oh...are they
ghosts or angels?
It doesn't matter
as long as they watch over me,
Ghosts and angels.
Ghosts and angels.
Ghosts and angels.
All
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2000, 2001, Sandy Andina, All Rights Reserved |
