Stealin’ Tomorrows

Verse 1:
She wasn’t lookin’ for anyone that night
She just needed somewhere to chill
So she took an Uber with a girlfriend
and they met up with their friend Jill
At a popular dive bar in the country
They bought a pitcher & played pool
In walked a bad boy with a couple buddies
who could turn smart girls into fools

Chorus 1:
Stealin’ tomorrows
That’s what he does at this place
Stealin’ tomorrows
With that rugged, handsome face
Stealin’ tomorrows
The devil’s up his leather sleeve
Stealin’ tomorrows
He’ll leave you then you’ll grieve

Verse 2:
Bad boy caught Jill’s eye right away
She liked guys with bikes & tattoos
He had smoldering eyes & long hair
She’d make an offer he wouldn’t refuse
Jill strolled up, whispered in his ear
He looked both his friends in the eyes
Signaled an OK over to them at the bar,
hollered, “They wanna hang with us guys.”

Then the other girls picked their poison
Drank tequila shots and fridge-cold beer
Then at closing time Jill told her man
“Come on, let’s you an’ me get outta here”
And they all filed out of the roadhouse bar
Drunk as a bunch of skunks could ever be
The head of the three-man gang said to them
“Y’all are comin’ home with me”

Chorus 2:
Stealin’ tomorrows
That’s what they planned to do
Stealin’ tomorrows
They broke their hearts in two
Stealin’ tomorrows
Traumatized ’em for the rest of their years
Those girls drowned in their own tears
‘Cause the biker gang ripped off their clothes
Treated them like easy and sleazy bimbos
Those assholes,
Stealing their tomorrows
Stealing their precious tomorrows
Those girls’ only tomorrows

Those assholes.

February 22, 2018

Lyrics Notes: All it took was a glance at a book called “Stolen Tomorrows,” and I knew I had to tackle this subject of predatory bikers out to break women who go out for a good time and their lives are basically ruined in one night.


Same Old Thing

You ask me how I’m doing
Well, it’s been the same old thing
Just got back from Va-Ca in C.A.
Plannin’ another getaway in the Spring

My tennis has gotten rather sloppy
‘n marriage has been intense
I’ve recently taken up collectin’ pens
‘n tryin’ to find a good color for our fence

Same Old Thing
Same Old Thing
Same Old Car Keys
Same Old Wedding Ring
Man, it’s the same old thing

Upgraded the membership at the Country Club
I heard that’s the way to join the Poker League
Sometimes I go out slumming on a Saturday night
then on Sunday, fight a case of fatigue

I make a mean Bloody Mary and I can stock beer
Our guests call the champagne “shampoo”
My wife is working on the summer cabin
‘n perfectin’ a new recipe for Swiss Fondue

I’ve been hangin’ with the old boy network
‘n readin’ up on some Garry Trudeau
The Mrs. had my my pipe and shirts monogrammed
‘n our dog Muffy was recently named Best In Show

Same Old Thing
Same Old Thing
Same Old Car Keys
Same Old Wedding Ring
Man, it’s the same old thing

Last week, I was ridin’ the porcelain Honda
Must have been the crab cakes I ate last week
The Volvo’s been in the shop for at least a month
At my wife’s friend’s wedding, I’m gonna speak

I go bird watching every Wednesday afternoon
and have a good collection of store catalogs
I’m really proud of the pond we have out back
It’s filled with frogs, minnows, and polliwogs

Same Old Thing
Same Old Thing
Same Old Car Keys
Same Old Wedding Ring
Man, it’s the same old thing
What about you?
Good for you old chap!
Now if you’d please excuse me
I’ve gotta go take my daily nap

Now if you’d please excuse me
I’ve gotta go take my daily nap.

2003, Revised 2017.

Goomba Town

Men’s men all around
The sweetest women can be found
It’s like livin’ on Italian ground
There, in Goomba Town

It’s the place to be
if you’re from beloved Sicily
They’ll treat you like family
There, in Goomba Town

They’re far from bein’ gangsters
you see in those movies and on TV
But the actors who are in them
have likely lived in that city

It’s a place you’ll love so much
Your heart, it will gently touch
You’ll feel more up than down
There, in Goomba Town

The pasta is delicious
You better eat if they offer to you
Or them Paisanos’ll get suspicious
and beat you ’til you’re blue

They all have good hygiene
They love Frank, Louis, Tony & Dean
They keep everything tidy & clean
There, in Goomba Town
There, in Goomba Town
There, in Goomba Town.


Lyric Notes: So, I’ve been kickin’ around this idea of a musical called Goomba Town. It would be about a town within a bigger metropolitan area – kind of like a Chicago, you know. An Italian-American town with Goombas and Italian women. I was inspired by Steven Schirripa‘s series of books on Goombas. They are great and they really break down the difference between a Goomba and a Gangster. Hilarious! Anyway, this is definitely one of those things where I would love to flesh this idea more, and this by far is a draft of just one of the songs I would include in the story. It would help to work with him on it specifically because it was inspired by his books. Here’s looking at you, Steven!

The Drama of the Gifted Child

It starts when you’re in kindergarten
You’re different from the rest of the pack
You empathize with all your friends
There’s something in you that they lack
So with each year, you learn more and more
To you, it’s like they’re all falling behind
You’ve been gifted with something special
It’s an artistic and curious mind

You absorb everything around you
You’re seeing things you don’t want to see
You just want to be like a normal kid
To you, they seem so free
But your parents push you to succeed
All you want to do is go running wild
Thus begins the inner turmoil and conflict
It’s the drama of the gifted child

Your brothers & sisters don’t understand
They think you’re a bit of a geek
You’re uncoordinated at sports you try
So your scrawny body is a little weak
Your friends are all growing stronger
But your mind is wicked and keen
Without realizing it you’ve become
Less friendly and very mean

You start attacking everyone around you
By now, you’re juvenile so it makes sense
Teachers just blow it off as being normal
A typical teen can be a little intense
But inside you’re still that little one
In your mind, some trauma is filed
You then develop an outlet of anger
That’s the drama of the gifted child

Your parents are a little worried now
They look at what you’ve created
You’re psychoanalyzed and criticized
But deep down you’re just frustrated
They seek something that will heal you
So you’re asked to see a shrink
He puts you on a medication
That muddles your ability to think

You start seeing things you’ve never seen
And you lose the ability to feel
You question what you’ve known all your life
You assume what’s going on isn’t real
So you take a trip with your therapist
He navigates you through your past
But while he’s collecting his paychecks
You’re thinking his position should be recast

So you ask to see a different person
Someone who can handle who you are
Someone who will see what’s in you
Perhaps a trainer in a seminar
You shared all your issues with strangers
And they helped you solve every single one
But therein became another problem
Your dependence on them took out the fun

So you navigated through every position
You’ve made some mistakes along the way
You’ve understood what you needed to do
Now you live with your family in Monterey

You bought an art gallery in Carmel
When you can you go to the beach
You often ponder your next adventure
Perhaps now, you’re ready to teach
And you’re standing in line at the DMV
Waiting there feeling restless and mild
When you hear something inside you
It’s the drama of a gifted child

It’s the drama of a gifted child.