Willa Bauman

Willa Bauman

BandFolkBlues

I play old folk songs combined with years of poetry reading and appreciating and deep fascination and study of literature.

Biography

Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, George Harrison, John Coltrane, Charlie Parker, Percy Bysshe Shelley, John Keats, Siddhartha Gautama, Hank Williams, Othar Turner, Charley Patton and Reverend Gary Davis are my main lyrical and semi-spiritual influences, but lately I have been listening to Blind Willie Johnson, Kid Ory, Emmett Miller, Dave Van Ronk and Odetta.

Lyrics

The Break of Night

Written By: Willa Bauman

Cantor cries at the break of dawn
"get up, go out, move down."
Piper shines a blistering light:
"make up without a sound."
You know, my love, I have to go
You know that I cannot stay.
You know, my love, the wind must blow
It has to be that way

Chorus:
Typewriter fantasies in the night
Shadows of whispering tongues
Dreaming of the city lights
Take me there while I'm young

The sun glints off of your temple dome
In the holy place you sit
I'm a thousand miles from my own home
I believe that it's time to quit
In the shade on Saturday
With you and your rag-time band
If life could get much worse
I believe that I'd understand.

Chorus:
Typewriter fantasies in the night
Shadows of whispering tongues
Dreaming of the city lights
Take me there while I'm young.

Cantor cries at the midnight hour:
loneliness across the sand.
Piper shines a blistering light
in the barren and shapeless land.
Teacher laughs to hide a yawn:
"look up and do not frown."
Writer brings the dark to night:
"eat none let food abound."

Chorus:
Typewriter fantasies in the night
Shadows of whispering tongues
Dreaming of the city lights
Take me there while I'm young.

VI

Written By: Willa Bauman

The sisters of Love are not so easily forgotten
Grace and Charm can seem at times quite rotten
And Beauty is only revealed to us in dreams
Like angels that cry and statues walking rooftops in Queens

Oh child come not in fear of the leaden night - nothing can hurt you if you're unwilling to fight

There's still a park bench where old women roll cigarettes
With tobacco-stained fingers that clutch at more than they get
There's a time and a place for a record of love's lost revolution
It's written across her thighs like a saintly absolution

Oh child come not in fear of the leaden night - Nothing can hurt you if you declare it to be perfectly right

Ladies' scarves twist and fall like the broken mouth beating of verse
That's caught in the wind and subjected to torture perverse
At open-mic coffeehouse gatherings of masculine conceit
And feminine order and talent falsifying all the beautiful things.

Oh child come not in fear of the leaden night - nothing can hurt you if you're unwilling to fight...

Give My Love

Written By: Willa Bauman

Give my love a time for his sorrow
A pen and a place and a new voice to borrow
When the old one grows cold
Battered and fallen
Take my love to the streets of Harlem

Take his hand when the night is falling
Let him hear, the stars are calling
Every soul cast out in the open
Vague and safe, in miles solemn

Narcissus he weeps for himself
and Echo cries there's nobody else
A bottle of liquor is on the bed again.

Ceres wishes that her daughter would stay
But she knows Persephone wants it that way - to live with Death alongside the endless shore

Give him a chance to worship beauty
Weep over cornfields, the Caspian sea
Whose shifting eyes are blind to death
Responsible, for every sailor left.

Narcissus he weeps for himself
and Echo cries there's nobody else.
A bottle of liquor is on the bed again.

Ceres wishes that her daughter would stay
But she knows Persephone wants it that way
To live with Death alongside the endless shore.

Repeat chorus

For Earnest Hemingway, with love and appreciation

Written By: Willa Bauman

Coyote howls in the dead of the night
Don't look at me with your warped fore-sight
your rose-colored glasses lie still on the floor
You assure me they aren't yours anymore.

You ought to know he danced for you
You ought to see his soul shining through
Every word he wrote - he wrote for you

Some 1920's cabaret melody
my memory hurls at me
Like some lost vague smoky sea
Across which sail, silent embassies

You ought to know he danced for you
You ought to see his soul shining through
Every word he wrote - he wrote for you

I heard you ask him before he went away
Why exactly did he bother to stay
when he knew your love for him wasn't true
He said - Lady, I have three words for you - I am Lonely

You ought to know he danced for you
You ought to see his soul shining through
Every word he wrote - he wrote for you

After three glasses of the finest wine
You confided to me it had nothing to do with time, his impotent eyes drove you up the wall
I'm sure, love, that was hardly all.

You ought to know he danced for you
You ought to see his soul shining through
Every word he wrote - he wrote for you

I understand the sea ran in your veins
and you had to take the rain
out of every goddamn cloud in the sky
But I can't believe you never heard him cry - I am lonely

Chorus

Now in the middle of the night
I watch a street-fighter hold his last street fight
No one here can't call him the best
You assure me you never were impressed

You ought to know he fought for you
You ought to see his soul shining through
Every fight he won, he won for you.