Hot House Ballads

I am earth that's not yet plowed,
All alone within a crowd.
Coldly waitin' for the sun,
Summer's night is not yet run.
Come caress me; you want to.
You'll find me cold and hot and blue.

I am fires not yet stoked,
I'm a drug that's not been smoked.
I am ice that's boiling hot;
Come and taste just what I got.
Will you touch me? Would you dare to?
I promise you I'm hot and blue.

Text Authorship:

• by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947), written 2008, copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

IMPORTANT NOTE: The material directly above is protected by copyright and appears here by special permission. If you wish to copy it and distribute it, you must obtain permission or you will be breaking the law. Once you have permission, you must give credit to the author and display the copyright symbol ©. Copyright infringement is a criminal offense under international law.

I come down to earth from heavens above,
To fatherly arms and mother's love.
I come down by birth from heavens on high,
To walk here below a heavenly sky.
Now I walk through hours and I walk through days,
With the pains and pleasures of earthly ways.
But I dream of when there were heavenly days.
Heavenly days before birth, with stars all ablaze.
Those heavenly days.

Text Authorship:

• by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947), written 2008, copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Go to the general single-text view

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

IMPORTANT NOTE: The material directly above is protected by copyright and appears here by special permission. If you wish to copy it and distribute it, you must obtain permission or you will be breaking the law. Once you have permission, you must give credit to the author and display the copyright symbol ©. Copyright infringement is a criminal offense under international law.

The hot house once blossomed with color and hue,
Bright with the sun as it went streaming through.
The yellow of warmth is now run away
And the winter has come with its icy bouquet.

Now the panes are all broken where beauty once grew,
And now cold are the dead where the winter winds blew.
Now the long white rain freezes, gathering gray,
And the building is fallen to death and decay.

Text Authorship:

• by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947), copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

IMPORTANT NOTE: The material directly above is protected by copyright and appears here by special permission. If you wish to copy it and distribute it, you must obtain permission or you will be breaking the law. Once you have permission, you must give credit to the author and display the copyright symbol ©. Copyright infringement is a criminal offense under international law.

I sit on my porch through the whole damn day,
But callers don't ever come my way.
No body ever stops by to stay.

The stove isn't warm and my dinner's not served,
And loneliness seems what I surely deserved.
No body ever stops by to stay.

The bed is unmade and the clock ticks off time,
The hours just fade and the shadows just climb.
No body's mine.

One stranger showed love, and, more strange still,
There once was a time when I had my fill.
That once is now gone but the lonely blues stay.

Text Authorship:

• by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947), written 2008, copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Go to the general single-text view

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

IMPORTANT NOTE: The material directly above is protected by copyright and appears here by special permission. If you wish to copy it and distribute it, you must obtain permission or you will be breaking the law. Once you have permission, you must give credit to the author and display the copyright symbol ©. Copyright infringement is a criminal offense under international law.