From the recording White Rock Lake

The lyrics were written by my old friend Todd Jeffries, revised a bit by Michelle Stroescu and I.  I wrote the music, play a Tony Francis Weissenborn, and sing.


These songs could drift through anytime
After all the myths blew away
And we saw our own illusions too    
And all that desire in between
There is a need to fill the void
We all want to know what to do
I’m going home to see my mama
Her lovin’ words will see me through
Three hundred yards across the slow water
Beneath the singing sycamores
This steamy July day
It was just like this two centuries ago     
We expected to see Indians
When we scrambled up on the muddy banks of Maryland
But there was nobody, not even a canoe
We decided to swim back
There was nothing else to do