Songs « Roger Deitz – Folk Musician – Writer – Humorist

Tom Paxton on my Mind

sung to "The Last Thing on My Mind," by Tom Paxton

I’ve been trying to write songs like Paxton’s
It’s been rough, it’s been rough
Songs of Chrysler and rabbits gone crazy
And a whole lot of topical stuff

But each time I get a hunch, Tom Paxton beats me to the punch
And everyone thinks Tom’s so clever
The day will come along, I’ll beat him to a song
Then I will sing that same damn song forever

As I write all my thoughts are a’ tumbling
Round and round, round and round
For there’s one thing that sets me a grumbling
It’s the sound, it’s the sound

Lord I wish I was dead, I hear Tom Paxton in my head
And he’s singing my new song before me
I’ll buy a stupid hat, try not to sing so flat
Then maybe the audience will adore me

He’s got reasons a plenty for writing funny
This I know, this I know
For his lifestyle demands a pile of money
May it grow, may it grow

But in the land of the free is there no money for me
Am I always a few steps behind
I could have wrote it better, didn’t mean to be unkind
But you see I had Tom Paxton on my mind

Grandpa's Knife

Grandpa’s Knife

Words and Music by Roger Deitz

We’d sit on the dock that’s out at the bay
With wood chips flying every which way
Grandpa whittled down wood as he whittled down the day
With his old dog by his side

He’d carve himself a wood link chain
Or a ball in a cage, it was always the same
He’d finish up one, then start over again
I remember grandpa’s knife . . . (Chorus)

Chorus:

Grandpa’s knife with the silvery blade
And all the good times that he made
Telling stories about the good old days gone by

We’d sing his favorite song
Old Dan Tucker all day long
Sometimes we’d laugh so hard we’d almost cry

Then we’d rush back home at the end of the day
With a big, white moon hanging out over the bay
Ma, she sure had plenty to say
But she’d scold us with a smile

She’d say I don’t know just how you two
Sit on that dock all day with nothing to do
But Grandpa’d wink, because he knew
We’d be back out there in a while . . . (Chorus)

It’s quiet on the dock now and out on the bay
Since Grandpa went and passed away
And I miss the songs, and I miss the smell
Of white pine in my life

But I have that knife and I carry it still
I keep it in my pocket, where I always will
And for me old Grandpa’s a whittling still . . .
I remember Grandpa’s knife . . . (Chorus)

Delaware River Romance

Words and Music by Roger Deitz

I left my heart on a river bank green
A long, long time ago
With the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen
On the laziest river I know

Her smile as broad as the river was wide
Her kiss like the river was long
We’d sit and watch the world float by
And sing a little river song . . . (Chorus)

Chorus:

I’m on my way
To see my love, I know
She’s waiting where
The Delaware’s waters flow

We’re on our way
To heaven soon I know
It’s heaven where
The Delaware’s waters flow

We’d walk across the river bridge
I held her hand in mine
She told me that she loved me true
It made me feel so fine

We’d watch the water down below
Glisten in the afternoon sun
Then we’d watch that river disappear
When our Delaware day was done . . . (Chorus)

Now married be my love and me
We’ve children of our own
We all sit on that river bank
Singing songs and skipping stones

Our children watch the world float by
And dream about roaming free
May they fall in love and sing this song
Just like their ma and me . . . (Chorus)

Dancing Sally

Words and Music by Roger Deitz

Dancing Sally, the poor half-Indian
Worked the shoe factory by day.
On a big, hot, dumb machine
For just a little bit of pay.

Sometimes she’d think so little
That she wouldn’t think at all.
And she’d wake up in a pile of shoes
When the evening spirit called . . . That’s when (Chorus)

Chorus:

She’d dance by the moonlight
Kick off her shoes and fly,
And she’d turn and she’d whirl
Till she almost reached the sky.

Then she’d laugh at the moon
Until it made her cry,
Dancing Sally found a better way to die.

She hoped to study dancing
Like the kids who take ballet,
But the teachers only laughed and said
“Indians don’t dance that way.”

So now she dances in the moonlight
Where no other eye can see,
In a lot behind the factory
Beneath a weeping willow tree . . . It’s there (Chorus)

One hundred shoes an hour,
A thousand shoes a day.
Lots of whte folks out there walking,
Even more of them at play.

Some day she’d kick her shoes off
And she’d never work again,
She’d dance into the next world
Things would be much better then . . . (Chorus)

Fifi the Microwave Pup

Words and Music by Roger Deitz

Fifi, poor Fifi the microwave pup
When she pressed the button, you were on your way up
Where all doggies go, when their owners don’t know
That microwave cooking don’t leave dogs good-looking

She primped and she coddled and pampered you so
The trouble was she was a little bit slow
And didn’t react when you started to glow
Poor Fifi the microwave pup

Although she loved poodles just oodles and oodles
They ain’t salmon croquettes or cheese casserole noodles
And all she was doing was drying your hair
But when you were done, you were medium rare

Now you are gone, what a terrible loss
You were buried with honors, and barbeque sauce
And although you’re our hero, the moral is clear, oh
Technology won, and the rest of us zero . . .

So it’s to you we are raising our cup
Poor Fifi the microwave pup

For a Friend

Words and Music by Roger Deitz

As we both go our own ways together,
And we look at the time we have not,
We remember the good, and we laughed quite a lot,
And give thanks for the things we’ve still got.

For friends may be fickled,
And friends may be lost,
And we’re lucky to know that our paths at least crossed,

So take care of yourself
And you write now and then,
And remember . . . you’ve still got a friend.

As you look at our lives through a window,
Of the pictures that hang by your bed,
Don’t mind if you do, I’m looking there too,
It’s better the less that is said.

But windows get dirty
And memories grow dim,
And I wonder if you really loved me like him.

So take care of yourself,
And you write now and then,
And remember . . . you’ve still got a friend.

Too often we went chasing rainbows,
As we searched for our own pots of gold,
Then day after day, our lives slipped away,
And money was too hard to hold.

But money’s just paper
And when money is spent,
You wonder where all of your working life went.

So take care of yourself,
And you write now and then,
And remember . . . you’ve still got a friend,
Remember . . . you’ve still got a friend.

Look Away Dixie Chicks

To the tune of Dixie (Look Away Dixie Land)

Me and the misses barbecuing on the patio
Tuning country music stations on the radio
That won’t play, that won’t play, that won’t play
Dixie Chicks

‘Cause here in Nashville we don’t cotton
To folks who say Gee, Dubya’ is rotten
Look away, look away, look away
Dixie Chicks

They’re naked on the cover of a magazine,
But I can’t tell if it’s Playboy or my latest Field and Stream
We won’t buy, won’t buy, won’t buy their gol’ dern CDs
They can cry, they can cry, they can cry and do a strip tease

So next time you Dixie Chicks gig don’t be dumb
Repress your excessive, expressive freedom,
And just play, sing and play, sing and play,
Dixie Chicks

Diane Sawyer won’t help you save face,
It seems you’re between Iraq and a hard place
Look away, look away, look away
Dixie Chicks

The Common Man

Words and Music by Roger Deitz

So many years have passed,
Since you first came to this land,
With a hammer, plough, and shovel,
And a Bible in your hand.

You built the roads and bridges,
You fought the rich man’s wars,
You never asked for much,
You never asked what for. (Chorus)

Chorus:
But you still love her,
This promised land.
Though the promises are broken,
And (poverty, misery, poverty’s) at hand?
The most you have in common,
Is how much you can stand.
There’s nothing very common,
About the common man.

Sometimes there was enough.
Sometimes you went without.
Some years the rain washed dreams away,
Some years there was a drought.

The summers were too hot,
The winters much too cold.
Your children grew too weary,
Before they grew too old. (Chorus)

Your women picked the cotton,
Your children worked the mills.
Your poor lived in the hollows,
While the rich lived on the hills.

The politicians promised
A future, oh so grand.
I guess that’s why America
Is called, “The Promised Land.” (Chorus)

The Dark Side of the Moon

Words and Music by Roger Deitz

They say that there’s an old man
On the dark side of the moon
Well, I’ve not read the papers
I barely wrote this tune

But if there is a laugh, you know
I guess that’s where I’d like to go
For lately, I’ve been to and fro
The dark side of the moon (Chorus)

Chorus:
So, come along and keep me warm
Sit right by my side
If there are secrets left to learn
Then life is still worthwhile
Keep your eyes upon me now
And your mind undone
I’d rather sing a love song
For an audience of one

My heart goes out to Nessie
She’s at the bottom of a lake
I know it’s cold and lonely there
How her poor heart much ache

She’s just another mystery
Another sad thing I must see
She’s safe alone, but hardly free
At the bottom of a lake (Chorus)

So if you don’t walk on the moon
Or sleep beneath the sea
Hang around, and hold on tight
And make sweet love to me

We’’ll dream about the tales untold
And write new endings for the old
With love that never could grow cold
On the moon or in the sea (Chorus)

The Senior Citizens Rag

The Senior Citizen’s Rag

Words and Music by Roger Alan Deitz

Sally showed Sam that he was her man

near fifty years ago

Sam never did say, but remembered the way it was
They laughed and they cried, the years they flew by
They never regretted a day
But now that they’re old – their age is called gold
It’s a different game they play

Sam remembered the ring that he couldn’t afford to buy
The kids that grew up and the hundreds of jobs he tried
Now Sally was sad, so down in the dumps

resigned to the troubles of age

This time Sam would, kneeling best that he could
Tell her that nothing’s changed . . . he sang . . .

I am driven to older women that’s true
That’s why I say I’m in love with you
I love the way you talk, and the way you almost walk
I know it ain’t right that your children don’t write to you

I’d love to take you out for a walk in the park
But my teeth are all I take out after dark
And I don’t care if your veins are blue

I feel varicose to you

So let’s both sing the Senior Citizen’s Rag

“Tell me that you’ll be my gray haired lover
Hurry I have little time to go
Don’t sing to me of Junes and moons

I’d rather have a bowl of prunes

I’d be your regular lover and how

Don’t whisper those sweet nothings in my ear
For unless you shout, you know that I can’t hear
And you can never dance the blues

wearing orthopedic shoes

So let’s both do the Senior Citizen’s Rag”

Darling I am growing older, growing older day by day
And I find myself remembering all the sweet things you would say
You told me you would always love me

even when my hair turned gray

Well I’m giving you one last chance dear

Before they carry me away
I’ve been living with memories long enough
And I’d really like a chance to show my stuff
Don’t you believe what you’ve been told

That you’ve gotten much too old
And let’s both do the Senior Citizen’s
Let’s both act the way we did again
Let’s both do the Senior Citizen’s Rag

The Sheep Dip

Words and Music by Roger Alan Deitz

I never sleep, when I count sheep
Those little woolie wonders always keep me awake
All dressed in white, sheep walk the night
They flash their big brown eyes and I go damn near insane

A shepherd’s life is not an easy lot out on the range
Nobody ever worries if he’s cold – or hot – or strange
But I can never lose, as long as I’ve got ewes
I’ve always been a glutton for a lovely leg of mutton . . . that’s why

Chorus:
Everybody’s talking about ‘The Sheep Dip’ (sheep dip)
That’s the dance that makes you want to back flip (back flip)
You do it where you can, then you take it on the lamb
And when you’re done what’s better –
You could knit yourself a sweater
And you don’t need a diploma or a sheepskin (sheepskin)
That’s the stuff the insides of a sheep’s in (sheep’s in)
So if someone’s got your goat, your worries are remote
The Sheep Dip is the dance you ought to do

I got so blue, last time I ate stew
I thought I’d recognized a long lost friend
Though we had fun, I hate to eat and run
It seems the meal in question always gives me indigestion

Mary had a little lamb, it had a funny glow
And everywhere that Mary went, the boys were sure to go
But they weren’t after Mary, when pushing, came to shove
They’d tender their affection in a vet’nary direction . . .
It’s lamb chops they loved . . . and now (Chorus)

I’ve got a wife, she’s the new love of my life
We left the ranch and moved on into town
She’s not to blame, but my love life’s not the same
I make her wear a cardigan every time we mess around

Some people have weird preferences, that shouldn’t make them odd
They seek a touch of heaven and a piece of the old sod
They may be wild and woolie, their flock might make you mad but
Between consenting mammals, how could anything be b-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-d (Chorus)

The Sidewalks of New York

to “The Sidewalks of New York”
new words by Roger Deitz

East Side, West Side, all around the town
There are folks on the street
Plastic bags on their feet
Pushing shopping carts around

Sometimes they sleep in Grand Central
Sometimes on a bench in the Park
Close your ears and your eyes
So you can’t hear their cries
Still they don’t disappear in the dark

They’ll tell you their own sad story
About the way things used to be
About what might have been
If their ship had come in
In the “Land of the Brave and the Free”

About a long lost love, The Lord above
Don’t worry about me I’m just fine
About frost bit hands, Aluminum cans
And two-dollar bottles of wine

There’s an old lady blue, out on Eighth Avenue
She’s cold, and she dying, and she smiles
She says, “If you’ve got the time,
Can you throw me a dime.
And I’ll sing my song for a while.”

Rosey sings about a day in her childhood
About a warm afternoon in the sun
And she says, “When you’re tired of singing my friend
That’s the day when your sad songs are done”

And it’s East Side, West Side
All around the town
The cops play “Ring-around-Rosey –
London Bridge is falling down”
It’s boys and girls together
Just me and old Rosey O’Rourke
We’ll trip the light fantastic
On the sidewalks of New York