Yes, that is what That Statue Guy looks like in civilian life.
 
About this "page."  It contains a variety of songs and poems I have written over the years.  It's not about what I think about while performing.  It is a place to present another side of myself beyond the realm of perfomance.  While some are autobiographical in nature, most are the projections of my imagination, based on personal experience or viewing from the eyes of another.  Hope you enjoy them.

Completed pieces include:           To be completed in Future:

These Feelings I'm Feeling Now   Arms of Another Man
Maybe It's Not Paris                     Distant Twilight
You Ain't A Cowboy Yet             Let's Just Stay Up 
Last in the Game                          In This Case
Christmas Wherever You Go       Just Ingin'
Bluejeans for My Baby                Body of a Real Man
Blessings of a Different Kind       The Little Things
Letter on the Mirror                     Far from Nashvile
Thanks for Waiting                      Gone for Good
You've Got Nothing on Her         Light of Brighter Days
You Don't Know About Me
How Do  Say I Love You?
Be the Bigger Man
Get Your Body Into It
from the musical The Consultant:
Welcome to the Family Brother
A Show About Me
The Passion in Fashion

 

THESE FEELINGS I'M FEELING NOW

Woke up after a night in which I didn't sleep at all.

Wore out the pillow staring from wall to wall.

Drained the coffee pot waiting for inspiration,

But caffeine is no substitute for waning anticipation.

Starred out the window but between grass and sky

Was nothing more than just the breeze blowing by.

The ticking of the clock is like the beating of my heart,

What made it strong is now pulling it apart.

    I'm sure that I will be getting better somehow,

    But what do I do with these feelings I'm feeling now?

There's still happiness that I can't get rid of.

There's still a wonderment that feels a lot like love.

Joy build a home and stayed for so long,

The wall are still standing – they were build that strong.

I was well aware such contentment would not last,

But why did time have to move so fast?

My heart keeps expecting him to walk through the door.

I can still see the footprints on the floor.

     I'm sure that I will be getting better somehow,
    
     But what do I do with these feelings I'm feeling now?

In the air I constantly feel the electricity,

Even the bad moments sparked a kind of chemistry.

I let him go go but I knew when he couldn't come back

My broken heart would learn how to mend the crack

     I'm sure that I will be getting better somehow,

     But what do I do with these feelings I'm feeling now?


MAYBE IT'S NOT PARIS 

I want to go to Paris to live in the land of love

To slip into happiness like the warmth of a glove.

I want a baguette for breakfast to dip into my chocolat chaud.

Have steak-frites for dinner with hors d'oeuvre of escargot.

I want to kiss on main street, along the Champs Elysée's;

Pay inflated prices for a café au lait.


I want to see the City of Lights in the day time;

To stroll the grand boulevards with your hand in mine.


       Maybe it's not Paris I really want to go to

       Maybe it's just a feeling I want to feel with you.

The feeling of Autumn, eating chestnuts under falling leaves;

The rain of Springtime streaking down our shirt sleeves.

The touch of morning as it slides along my face;

The casual eloquence of satin and lace.


That je-ne-sais-pas moment staring at a Van Gough;

You ask me to describe it, but like I said, I don't know.


I get this feeling of Paris whenever you are near,

When memories of the moment are the only souvenirs.

       Maybe it's not Paris I really want to go to

       Maybe it's just a feeling I want to feel with you.

YOU AIN'T A COWBOY YET

He bought himself a Stetson and his belt buckle's big.

He's taking a course in how to hog-tie a pig.

He's learning how to speak in that smooth Southern drawl,

But he keeps saying “everybody” when he means “y'all.”

CHORUS 

    When he walks down the street his feet go in a straight line.

    His city roots seem to trip him up every time.

    And just to make sure that he don't forget,

    We like to look at him and say,

                          “Hey, you ain't a cowboy yet.”

He modified his Toyota so he can play hit-to-pass.

He bought a Chevy truck and feeds it lots of gas.

He went to the barn social dressed up as a scarecrow;

Found out here guys play violin tucked into their elbow.

He went to the auction and bought himself a cow;

He's feeling a lot more like Old McDonald now.

CHORUS

He calls his dog Rover who takes care of the sheep.

He invested in a rooster so he don't get much sleep.

His daughter is enrolled in the 4H club program;

She's finding out that Wilbur makes pretty good ham.

Driving past fields of corn and countless bails of hay.

He used to wonder how could people live this way

But he got used to the smell and understands why.

And can't believe how many stars are in the sky.

CHORUS
 

LAST IN THE GAME

Born at ten to midnight, thirty-first of December -

The third daughter, the last child, seventh family member.

She wore hand-me-downs till she was thirteen

When they realized she would be no beauty queen.

Her hair in pigtails and although it wasn't hands-me-downs

She wore the clothes of strangers from other parts of town.

CHORUS:

      When they asked her how she was doing
                                                    she would say, “alright.”

       But they never asked when she was crying in the night.

       If they asked how she felt the answer was always the same

       She said there has to be someone that's last in the game.

Zoe Zawinski sat patiently everyday

They never bothered to do role call from Z to A.

At recess in the school yard she waited like the rest

Only to be reassured she was far from best.

It's not they didn't like her, they just thought she was shy.

Nobody ever took the time to understand why.

She rode on the school bus, her stop at the end.

She said goodbye to everyone, but no one called her “friend.”

CHORUS

She went to the Prom with cousin Ed where hour after hour,

Except when someone lost a bet, she was the official wallflower.

Then years later, the once-captain of the baseball team

Asked her to go out bowling like something out of a dream.

Six months later they stopped keeping score.

He began to notice things about her no one had before.

When he put the ring on her finger and asked her to be his wife,

She knew that she would the last for the rest of his life. 


CHRISTMAS WHEREVER YOU GO

Let the snow fall on the Prairies, I'm staying here on the Coast.

I'll miss the wood stove burning and the taste of turkey roast.

Let ma sleep in her kerchief and pa in his cap.

I'll miss that string of cards and the eggnog on tap.

But Christmas is Christmas wherever you go

As long as there is a manger and hanging mistletoe

Have a happy holiday where soever you roam

But this year for Christmas I won't be coming home.

Let the shovels clean the side walks, the ploughs clear the streets.

I'll miss that old toboggan and the smell of home-made treats.

Let ice freeze the ponds; I'm staying where it rains in trees.

I'll miss the white rooftops and the icicled eaves.

But Christmas is Christmas wherever you go

As long as choirs are singing, stocking hang in row.

Have a happy holiday, I wish you good cheer

But I won't be seeing snowflakes falling this year.

Let cars get stuck in snow banks, I rode my bike to work today.

I'll miss the snowball fights and the games we used to play.

Let them build their four-foot Frostys, 

                                       I've a nice one filled with air.

I'll miss coming in for hot chocolate and thawing out my hair.

But Christmas is Christmas wherever you go

As long as there are candy canes and candles aglow

Have a happy holiday and a safe New Year's too.

This year I'll be spending them with somebody new.

So, best of the season whoever you go.
Be it seventy above or seventeen below.

BLUE JEANS FOR MY BABY

Blue jeans for my baby as we walked hand in hand.
Throwing stones in the water, leaving footprints in the sand.
Life goes by so fast;soon these good times will be gone
And memories are all we have to which we can hold on.
Lessons we will teach them when they put us to the test;
The words they may forget but they'll remember the rest -
Be kind to strangers, don't run down the hall,
Have a good breakfast and don't write on the wall.

Blue jeans for my baby who threw a fit at the store.
Screaming incoherently and banging on the floor.
I stood my ground when I told him we wouldn't buy that toy.
It's amazing how much sound can come from a little boy.
I hugged him and told him, “Yes, it does looks very nice.”
I might have reconsidered but then I looked at the price.

Blue jeans for my baby going head first down the slide,
Saying, “Hey there, look at me,” with a smile twice as wide.
Swinging from bar-to-bar and scaring away the crows.
He still makes a fuss when I try to blow his nose.
Going on the merry-go-round he befriends another kid.
I laugh inside because he's doing exactly what I just did.
It may be coffee and small talk, but it means the world to me.
It's true what they say – friendship can be for free.

Blue jeans for my baby, blue jeans for me too.
Is this casual happiness just a phase I'm going through?
I wake up every morning and find it's still there;
While he's running around the house in Spider-man underwear.

BLESSING OF A DIFFERENT KIND

Wake up in the morning and walk into the room;

The floor feels as cold as a January moon.

Look into the empty space and think what could be there -

Little wee fingers and thin wisps of hair.

Pondering what could have been and how things are 

You wanted to show how to let butterflies out of a jar.

Now amidst the explanations there still hangs some doubt,

Is this the way this moment was supposed to turn out?

Life is like a book - every time you turn the page

The words you thought would be there somehow get rearranged.

Just when you think you have it all worked out in your mind. 

Is when you receive blessing of a different kind.

Time comes upon us as fast as time does go.

Calenders turns, the earth shrinks as babies grow

Knots tighten inside, it's almost hurts to relax

In the silence of prayer it's still hard to face the facts.

The scientific jargon is understood all too well.

Each time it gets harder to crawl out of the shell.

Even though there are friends to help you along the way,

No matter how blue the sky is it still looks grey.

Sometimes you just can't help but feel that way.

At times it's hard to find the sweetness when you pray.

Just when you want to leave it all behind

Is when you receive blessing of a different kind.

Everyone has unfilled hopes in one form or another

One wants a sister, one wants to be a mother.

Just because the course didn't turn out quite as planned

Doesn't mean the circumstances are to be damned.

If you cup isn't running over, check out the bottom;

What you learn about problems is that everybody's got 'em.

Loneliness is a symptom, it's not a disease

I know that knowing that may not put you at ease

Although I haven't walked quite in your shoes

I know what it's like to have the blues

Just when you're convinced its not all in the mind

Is when you receive blessing of a different kind.





LETTER ON THE MIRROR

YOU’VE GOT NOTHING ON HER

 You’ve got a garden of roses and a seasoned green thumb.
You can figure out the shades to match mustard to plume.

You can make great coffee even from the cheapest grind,

And there ain’t a lost sock that you can’t find.

Your can make your  home smell like caramel apple pie

And match fresh ironed shirts with just the right tie.

You can whip up a dinner in less than half an hour

And find a balanced combination of sweet and sour.

        You maybe a domestic goddess of haute couture

        But to me, personally, you’ve got nothing on her.

       You don’t shine as bright; you don’t talk quite as well

       You don’t pick me up when I’m feeling like hell.

       You don’t fill up my mind till nothing else can fit in.

       You don’t go with anything like salt or cinnamon.

       The long and the short of the matter is simply this –

       You’ve got fine lips but not the ones I want to kiss.

You run five miles a day to give you that perfect tone.

You never eat a bite unless it’s in the proper zone.

You have hands that could calm the devil in a rage

With intoxicating oils of citrus and sage

When men lay still before you, you have them close their eyes.

You have a touch that’s so fine, they don’t begin to fantasize.

I’ve been hearing rumours Hefner has been wanting you to take it off

But you’re too smart to realize you’ve already got it going on.

      You may be a masseuse with a gorgeous figure

      But to me, personally, you’ve got nothing on her.

      You don’t shine as bright; you don’t talk quite as well

      You don’t pick me up when I’m feeling like hell.

      You don’t make me want to stay up till the break of dawn

      Wishing I had the skills of a Don Juan.

       The long and the short of the matter is simply this –

       You’ve got fine lips but not the ones I want to kiss.

You had everything it took for a meteoric rise to fame.

You turned a small town girl into a household name.

A voice as sweet as chocolate, and a look that’s good in leather.

You probably make enough to import your own weather

You may use Grammies as bookends and have Oprah on speed dial

But you’re just as comfortable hanging out country style.

You can make a man feel like a woman in a karaoke bar,

And we all want to ride with you in the back of your car.

        You may be Shania Twain with your own chauffeur.

        But to me, personally, you’ve got nothing on her

       You don’t shine as bright; you don’t talk quite as well

       You don’t pick me up when I’m feeling like hell.

        But you do a good job – to give credit where it’s due

        You’ve picked me up when I was low 
                                    and helped me to pull through.

        The long and the short of the matter is simply this –

       You’ve got fine lips but not the ones I want to kiss.


YOU DON’T KNOW ABOUT ME

I can chug, sweat and swear just like any other,

And I’d walk on fire to help out my brother.

I can do twenty push-ups in less than a minute

And I like my salsa with lots of jalapeños in it.

      But when the sun has gone at the end of the day

      And the beauty in her voice is so many miles away.

      It’s not easy living between what is 
                                                and what could be...

      If you think men don’t cry, you don’t know me.

My mind goes back to that time ‘round midnight

With her soft eyes glowing in the candlelight.

It`s a feeling I can only get when I’m there;

Still, I hold her in my heart and send her all my prayers.

So I go through the motions and work like a dog,

Doing my best to keep my head out of the fog.

It’s true, I love my job and they say I do it well

And don’t grumble much when my aching feet swell.

         But when the sun hangs high in the middle of the day

         And the rhythm of her body is so many miles away.

         It’s not easy living between what is 
                                                    and what could be...

         If you think men don’t cry, you don’t know me.

I’ve loved the ones I’ve been with everywhere I’ve gone;

Being careful not to misinterpret that song.

I’ve walked down distant streets in search of solution,

Hoping the goodness found there was not just substitution.

My body remembers all the times we lived like the wind,

Doing what could have caused others to have sinned...

Strange things happens when love doesn’t happen physically.

Now I’m far away and she still helps bring out a strength in me.

        But when shadows stretch at that certain time of day

        And her sun-kissed skin is so many miles away.

       It’s not easy living between what is 
                                            and what could be...

       If you think men don’t cry, you don’t know me.

HOW DO I SAY I LOVE YOU?

There`s a man I know who wears his heart upon his sleeve

He`s the type who listens with intent until it`s time to leave

Then he says a sweet goodbye and goes on his merry way

With so much in his mind he doesn`t know how to say

I know he`s crazy for me but the problem is simply this –

He knows how to make me smile but it`s not that kind of bliss.

       How do I say “I love you” without breaking his heart?

       How do I lift up such a soul without him falling apart?

What do I say when he asks me, with his emotions in a swirl,

How to ask out the second most beautiful woman in the world?

What do I do when he’s burning inside but playing it cool –

Doing his best so that I don’t feel like I’m making him feel like a fool?

I`m traveling down life`s road, not knowing what`s round the bend,

When another man comes in the picture, he takes it like a friend.

       How do I say “I love you” without breaking his heart?

       How do I lift up such a soul without him falling apart?

I know he’s hoping that one day, down the line, I’m sure to change my mind.

Till then he`s trying his best, thinking that he can help me to find...

A way out of past fears to where passion is the guide

And I will let loose all the truths that I`ve been keeping inside.

But how do I explain I`m not trying to build mystery –

That this lack of intensity is chemistry, not history.

      How do I say “I love you” without breaking his heart?

      How do I lift up such a soul, without him falling apart?

I’m flattered when he’s tells me I’m not just gorgeous but beautiful too.

It’s sweet how careful he is to show affection without whispering “I want you.”

How do I help him to recognize that some day he will find

That someone he connects with – body, soul, and mind.

Till then, and long after, may he find the time and place

Where, when there is not passion, there is always grace.

       How do I say “I love you” without breaking his heart?

       How do I lift up such a soul without him falling apart?

I`ll never say never but I don`t see ourselves as lovers

He looks fine over coffee but I don`t need him under covers.

There is a simple sweetness in the way that we connect

An abundance of kindness that time cannot perfect.

It`s not complicated, but here`s the strangest thing

He`s the one who wrote this song for someone else to sing.

       How do I say “I love you” without breaking his heart?

       How do I lift up such a soul without him falling apart?

BE THE BIGGER MAN

A bigger man wakes in the morning filled with wonder and determination.

He stares at the world, looking forward to those moments of inspiration.

With every face he passes he further recognizes his part

In the fabric of humanity and what keeps it from tearing apart.

A bigger man knows he’s no greater than the dust of the earth from which he was made

And when he feels life spiking through his veins, he understands how the game is to be played.

A bigger man will learn the rules and practice till honour is it’s own currency,

Knowing that defeat is simply a chance to celebrate another’s victory.

So I say, “Son, whenever you can, be the bigger man.”

A bigger man doesn’t laugh at the defeated but wishes them better luck next time around.

Nor does he feel belittled amidst those who stand further from the ground.

A bigger man is often the one who’s less than six feet tall,

Who doesn’t feel he’s lost even when he’s last over the wall.

A bigger man will not fight a battle when the other side has no chance to win

But when others choose to do so, he will still stand and face them with a grin.

A bigger man doesn’t look good to look better or do what’s wrong just to fit in

He knows how to say he’s sorry without having to commit the sin.

So I say, “Son, whenever you can, be the bigger man.”

GET YOUR BODY IN TO IT

You came in and you sat yourself down.

I could see in a flash you were from out of town.

You had on a thin tie and a two piece suit –

Looking kinda nerdy, looking kinda cute.

You said you were coming in for just a quick sip

You ordered a glass of lite and gave a real good tip.

I could tell by the way you were tapping your chair

You weren’t happy just to be sitting there.

So I summoned all my courage and took a chance

And strolled on over to ask if you wanted to dance.

You said yes like it was the only way you knew how to reply,

Then you drank up your beer and stripped off your tie.

I was wondering what kind of moves you would be showing

As the DJ mixed the tunes to keep the motion flowing.

When we got to a spot where everyone was grooving

I was surprised with the way that you were moving.

It was almost as if you had never been there before,

The way your feet were stuck to the floor.

     I looked at him and said, 
                         "Do I have to show you how to do it?

     Come on and get your body in to it."
     You're going to have to work it 
                         if you want to get the job done.
     You've got to live like you mean it if you want to have fun."

We finished dancing and had ourselves a few drinks
Then went back to my place, but not for what you think.
Said I had a problem with a leak in the ceiling.
He said, "I know exactly how you're feeling."
Said I was filling up every pot and pail.
He said he was handy with a hammer and nail.
We went up on the roof to fix it with a shingle.
He said it must be hard being female and single.
I took the hammer and went to whak that nail on the head.
When I missed he just laughed at me and said,

     "I really didn't think I had to show you how to do,
     Come on and get your body into it.
     You're going to have to work it
                      if you want tot get the job done.
     You've got to live like you mean it if you want to have fun."

 
Welcome to the Family, Brother 
(extract from the musical The Consultant)

Welcome to the family, brother, what is it that you thought that we did?
I guess it's time you learned about all the secrets that we’ve hid.

About Uncle Milo, the Janitor – it’s true he’s good at cleaning up a mess.

He’s the one to call when something goes wrong with the guy that won’t confess.

It’s true Cousin Tony is a lawyer, a real expert in criminal law.

He sure came in handy when Eddie was hasty with that industrial saw.

Your nephew Calab isn’t really a dentist but he’s brought us lots of satisfaction;

We honesty don’t recommend him, unless all you want is tooth extraction.

Welcome to the family, brother, too bad we can’t hide the truth anymore.

Hope you understand why we didn’t tell you this all before.

While we work her at the Pens for Men shop, to be perfectly blunt,

We really don’t do much business except as a covert intelligence front.

Your sister working at the beauty parlour, there’s a reason she acts so strange.

If you knew what she gets asked to do, you’d know why her roots are constantly changed.

 
I don't care for this suit and monochromatic tie
But I look real good when called upon to give my aliby.

All those times I've said I was out with my wife,
They don't know the ways I was risking my life.

Welcome to the family, brother,  it doesn't go any further than this
As much as I love you, brother,  I know too manuy men that never miss.

So if you ever wonder how I manage to maintain my anonyminity;
If you ever hear about Cold-Hearted, Lawyer-Hugging, Scum-Sucking,
                   Knuckle-Scraping, Criminal-Sympathizing Robertson... that's me 

A SHOW ABOUT ME
   
(extract from the musical The Consultant)

They’re going to do a show about eccentricity...

They’re going to do a show about me.

Finally it will be explained that I’m not gay;

It’s just that I was built this way.

Apologies to Nathan Lane, Elton John and Sean Hayes,

The San Fransisco Chorus and the rest of you gays.

I know you all want to be in my place;

Unfortunately you weren’t born with the right face.

They’ll find out I don’t need that umbrella,

            it just keeps my stride when I walk.

And I didn’t have an operation, this is just the way that I talk

The spring in my step is not because of my shoes.

My cheerful disposition is the one that I choose.

I only wear blue jeans when I’m fixing my car

And I won’t go to McDonald’s till they’ll serving caviar.

Just ‘cause I don’t like football, ripple chips and cheap beer

Doesn’t mean that I’m a certain kind of  queer.

I don’t care for channel surfing, lying on the couch with my hand in my pants

I don’t pretend my feet are glued to the floor when I go to the club to dance.

I have a habit of wearing my coat without the arms in the sleeve

When I go shopping, I search for sheets with a double weave.

I don’t see the point of drinking wine without good cheese’

And add a scented candle to anything puts my mind at ease.

So, ladies and gentlemen, remember all these things, please

When you do that show about eccentricity

When you do that show about me.


THE PASSION IN FASHION  
(from The Consultant)

Where has the passion in fashion gone?

People don't care what they put on.

They come on the talk shows wearing running shoes

As if that's a reward for having paid their dues;

They quaff their hair perfectly then slap on a t-shirt

As if a tie and tab collar would actually hurt

Where has the passion in fashion gone?

People don't care what they put on.

They walk down the street at the height of day

Like it's no mistake to be wearing lingerie

That's not the problem but, I think someone lied

Saying it's not inappropriate to have it on the outside

Where has the passion in fashion gone?

People don't care what they put on.

To those who wear their pants with the zipper at their knees,

If you can't afford a belt could you wear a longer shirt, please.

When I see all those logos and the money they must have spent,

I wonder how much it cost them to be a walking advertisement.

Where has the passion in fashion gone?

People don't care what they put on.

Some create a whole new wardrobe just by whitening their teeth.

Some wear jackets in restaurants as though they've nothing underneath.

Some coordinate their look by what does or does not smell.

Sometimes I think some are auditioning for Hell.

DISTANT TWILIGHT 

Out beyond the distant twilight

Love is ragging, waiting for a fight.

It has walked on driftwood beaches, smiled at butterflies

Felt the wings of dancing angels and silenced hurtful lies.

Emotions are stirring and ready to pour.

So many people holding out, waiting for more.

It’s not very far but it’s still out of hand;

Please don’t make me explain what I do not understand.

Out beyond the distant light of dusk

Love is ragging, wondering who to trust.

This is just perception of what could be true'
It's just a phase of the course I must go through.

LET’S JUST STAY UP 
[FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES]

You don't want to fall asleep alone and neither do I
You don't to wake up thinking life is passing you by.
 
The moon is hanging high and you're looking so fine;
You don't want my lips so I won't cross that line.
 
There's a sweetness in the air between you and me;
I know there is nowhere that I would rather be.
 
I've never loved someone so much with my clothes on;
I wish I knew how to stop the coming of dawn.
 
I have a solution for when the new day arrives,
Let's just stay up for the rest of our lives.

I know the candlelight will fade into sunrise

And the dark will be filled with blue skies.

At three in the morning while the world around you is asleep,

You’ve got that look that suggests you’re already counting sheep.

IN THIS CASE

I’ve been living in indecision for so long, like it’s a town out west

I’m never sure which card to lay so I play them close to my chest

I feel like an outsider though I’ve lived here all my life

As the margin is getting wider, there’s a good chance I’ll survive.

They play me like a chump as if I`m lucky to pull through

Even though they know that`s exactly what I`ll do.

Every once in a while I go crazy but pretty soon I`m back again.

Just as pleasure is to pain, sunshine is to rain,

            wonder and wonderment spike through my vein

Chorus:

If you want to know just what I`m getting at,

Please, pull up a chair and take off your hat;

Don`t use my kindness as a welcome mat.

I ain`t the kind of guy to leave spots on the glass;

I ain`t the kind of guy you need to hit to pass;

I ain`t afraid of coming in last to be part of the race.

So, go ahead and stay up all night.

I pick my battles but choose not to fight.

What`s the good of always being right –

                                    Fill in the blank in this case

You say that it’s not about winning, but think it’s strange when I say,

“If failure is not an option, I don’t want to play.”

 
 JUST  INING’

He’s a chip off the old block,

Sliding in his white socks across the kitchen floor.

“Did you do a lot of swinging?

Did you join in the singing?

Tell me, how has your morning been?”

He looks at me with that same sweet grin

And says, “Just ’ining.”