No Man’s Land Liner Notes and Lyrics

“No Man’s Land”
Liner Notes and Lyrics

One of my lessons lately has been learning to choose what I want.

I don’t live in the country cause I can’t find the town, I like it that way; I ain’t up today cause I never been down, I like it that way; I can chase my tail round and round ‘till I die, But there’s a little voice that keeps asking why

I like it that way, I like it that way

I don’t work with my hands cause I can’t use my head, I like it that way; I ain’t still alive cause I couldn’t be dead, I like it that way; Yeah you make your choice and you take your chance, about just who and what your gonna bring to the dance,

I like it that way. I like it that way

I ain’t with my baby just because she said yes, I like it that way; I don’t keep it clean cause I can’t make a mess, I like it that way; The two of us seem to be doing just fine; We don’t keep score and we don’t count time,

We like it that way, we like it that way

Another has been learning that what I want seems to be all around.

You wonder and you wander, you search for something fine; Just to come full circle, to what’s been there all the time; In the old wood by the doorway, seen in the setting sun, a quiet conversation, when the day is done, In the warm wind through the cottonwoods, and the promise that it brings

You have found the magic of ordinary things

You listen to the holy ones, climb the mountain peaks But what you looked for was all around, just playing hide and seek In the fresh bread on the table, clear water you can drink, The path down to the river, when you need time to think; In the rock found in the driveway or a sparrow’s feathered wing

Yes you’re deep into the magic of ordinary things

They’re just ordinary things, you used to take for granted, You’ve got diamonds in your hands, from the rocks you planted

It’s the dishes after dinner, a good book in the chair, Some time to count your blessings with someone who really cares; In the quiet winter’s snowfall or the first new grass of spring

You have found the magic of ordinary things

I suppose there really are no ordinary things

It’s a great problem to have when things are so good it’s scary.

Friends ask how we’re doing, after all that we’ve been through; I really don’t know what to say about how it is with me and you; I could tell them how it feels, crawling in next to you; How it’s been my wildest dream, waking up and coming true Yes I could talk until tomorrow ‘bout your true and tender touch; But I don’t want to say too much

So I just say we’re doing fine I don’t want to sound too proud; I do a lot of laughing, but I don’t do it loud; I knock on wood, I don’t tempt fate, and I don’t rub it in; I just hope feeling this great, ain’t considered no great sin No I ain’t trying to hide or to sound mysterious But I don’t want to say too much

and if pride leads to a fall, then I don’t want to talk at all

I could ramble on forever, spouting poetry and such but I don’t want to say too much

no I don’t want to say too much

Sometimes it’s difficult to find our way through the uncharted territory that is our life, but it does keep it interesting

I love to look at maps to find where the roads don’t go; Out beyond the fences to someplace that I don’t know; Out where I don’t see no lines scratched across this land; there’s something there I hunger for and want to understand; and freedom calls, so softly that it scares me, talking sweet, then it double-dares me

Chorus- There’s no borders on this land I see, no limit to this love, no map to show the way to go, except for what we’re dreaming of No boundary that can hold us back, except what’s in our minds, no path to mark our passing except for what we leave behind

It’s a long and winding road to walk if you must walk alone; Thank you for companionship and all the love we’ve known; Now we scan the ground for footprints and search the sky for signs; We hope our hearts can find the path we can’t see with our minds; and here we stand, all directions calling, we take a step, be it flying or falling

Chorus

Sometimes our lives seem so full of things that we don’t need, but to compensate for all that we had lost but now we see, what we really want was missed in the confusion, hid behind trinkets and illusion

Chorus

There is something close to the surface in “empty” land that is often buried elsewhere.

No man’s land, canyon rim, river flows five hundred feet below; Sage and dust on the wind, it could be five hundred years ago And the river would never know And the river would never know

There’s a town across the valley, but from no man’s land it doesn’t show; That town and all its people, could melt away like last winter’s snow And the river would never know And the river would never know

It could be a thousand years ago I could be wearing skins, and carrying a bow and arrow I see the ancient herds, hear the glacier creep, feel the lava flow; I could float off on this current like some driftwood on the water down below And the river would never know And the river would never know

It could be a million years ago or so far off in the future that no single shred of evidence remained to show And the river would never know

And the river would never know

Here’s a song that is on Hired Hands’ Stuff That Works CD— this is more the way I originally heard it.

I pushed and pushed on a door marked pull I took another bite when I knew I was full I’ve taken that road that says ‘Wrong Way’ and found out later they mean what they say

Sometimes, you gotta take time, to read the signs

I thought I saw forever in a little smile Then found out forever was just a little while I didn’t just take the bait, I swallowed the hook I didn’t want to see it so I didn’t look

Sometimes, you gotta take time, to read the signs

They say experience runs a hard school, but the only one for a stubborn fool I can’t tie a bow tie, I ain’t well read But I’m gonna be a wise man, by the time I’m dead

They say life can be heaven, life can be hell When you’re stuck in the middle it can be hard to tell I don’t know where we’re going but I guess we’ll get there It’s what we’re doing down here that’s got me scared

Sometimes, you gotta take time, to read the signs

My friend Don Conoscenti was telling me about a particularly hard stretch of the road he’d been experiencing, and this song came out in response. But then I realized that even a lot of folks who aren’t traveling find some pretty tough stretches too.

You say it ain’t been too much fun, and lately every journey is uphill both ways; The truck broke down and you’re just broke, and no road seems to beckon you too much these days; And the warrior’s heart that gets you through no matter what you do is looking for an easier way, and all I can say

Is that’s why you come home, that’s why you come home

You say you’re beat up and you’re bruised, you ain’t forgotten why you do it but it’s getting dim; And the clouds on the horizon that once burned orange in the sunrise now seem threatening; And you wish the sculptor’s hand could be a little more gentle as it works his clay, but all I can say, is that’s why you come home, that’s why you come home

When silence seems the only thing worth saying And not one of your songs seems to want playing And staying in one place is only harder than the moving on to one more town along the endless road, you’re called to roam, that’s why you come home, that’s why you come home, that’s why you come home, that’s why you come home

Cindy Lee’s expecting any day, Diego’s coming with the snow; And Carol asked about you, she says it’s way too long between the local shows; And the seasons spin, the river slips past the peaks gazing on us all below; Hey I’m sure you know, that’s why you come home, that’s why you come home; that’s why you come home, that’s why you come home

Politics—what can you say?

The guy on TV is smiling like your best friend He says your troubles are over and your ship is coming in But all he wants is your vote on election day And if he thinks he can get it there ain’t much he won’t say

They think that you can’t tell, they think that you can’t tell. They think you’re hard of hearing and you don’t see too well, they think that you can’t tell

The voice on the phone sounds just like she cares For every problem you’ve got she’s scripted and prepared But all she wants is to make it through this day You really can’t blame her, the bottom line works that way

They think that you can’t tell, They think that you can’t tell, They think you’re out of touch hidden deep within your shell. They think that you can’t tell.

Can you still find the thread that got you started down the long highway? Can you follow it back to what you started out to say? When you swore you’d never be the politician holding up a child, wanting to be seen with something pure and undefiled

They think that you can’t tell, they think that you can’t tell, If there’s really any water at the bottom of this well. They think that you can’t tell, They think that you can’t tell. Oh forgive them for they know not what they do, they think that you can’t tell.

Sometimes the beauty of the world peels off my blinders.

High water in the lowlands, flax bluer than the sky Lambs playing like they don’t know why they’re here In a meadow so green, that it could split me wide open, like I ain’t got no skin Wide open, I just can’t take it in; Wide open

Snow runs clear down the mountain, to the gray cloud piled up so high; Rain on the sage perfumed like God’s first breath; As the rainbow curtain comes down, I swear it splits me wide open, like I ain’t got no skin Wide open, I just can’t take it in; Wide open

And so I reach across to touch you, to try to tell you how I feel Then I see your eyes and I know, there is no need All this and more is shining there, and I swear it splits me wide open, to the seven seas and four winds Wide open, I feel it take me in Wide open, wide open, wide open

I have known those seemingly born with things that I have struggled for. It took me a long time to realize their path was at least as steep as mine.

We all got something that we’re trying to chase We all run our own private race We want to feel like we’re home free, we want to win the lottery Instead we’re pinching every nickel and dime We wish we were born at the finish line We just want to be born at the finish line

We might wish we were twenty-one again If we could only keep what we learned since then But if we had not come this way, we’d not have much to say, To all those who might walk a bit behind All who were not born at the finish line All who were not born at the finish line

Still the highway stretches out before my eyes and I still assume there is a reason why There’s much more I want to do, before the day I’m through With this journey that has showed me what is mine I who was not born at the finish line I who was not born at the finish line

I who was not born at the finish line

I try to not get too preachy, I really do—believe it or not.

If each and every person will decide, what they’re willing to see and what they’re willing to hide. There’s trash outside my door, to pick up or ignore, there’s my little bit of land to till, if I choose and if I will; I only touch what I can touch, who’s to say how much, difference it will make in the end

But if each and every person, if each and every person, if each and every person a hand they would lend, who’s to say what would happen then

There’s a world in front of me, it’s so easy to see only pain and misery. There are eyes I fear to meet, passing on the street, who are longing for someone to say, that they see a light, that there is a way, that there’s something left worth living for, that there’s something fine, that there’s something more, that they make some kind of difference in the end

But if each and every person, if each and every person, if each and every person some message they would send, who’s to say what could happen then

If each and every person could believe, that they change the world just by walking down the street. The old woman, who lives next door, sure could use, a little more. There’s a gift that only I can give, a life that only you can live; Each of us could choose to be the world that we would like to see and make some kind of difference in the end

But if each and every person, if each and every person, if each and every person a hand they would lend, who’s to say what would happen then, yeah who’s to say what could happen then

The Band—

Dale Smith—drums, except Ray Porrello—drums on Read the Signs
Creed de Avanzar—conga
Mike Noonan—bass on Read the Signs
Rob Bosdorf—slide guitar on Read the Signs
Jimmy Stadler—piano on That’s Why You Come Home
Robin James—harmony vocals on Wide Open
Billy Bond—dobro on I Like It That Way and No Man’s Land
Don Richmond—all other instruments and vocals

This CD was recorded from early 2000 through 2001 at Howlin’ Dog Recording in Alamosa, Colorado. Early preliminary recordings were made in La Jara and Manassa elementary schools while I was being an artist-in-residence there. I wish to thank Mrs. Ann Huffaker and all the staff and students at those schools for their warm hospitality and willingness to make noise, and put up with mine. Thanks to all my brothers and sisters of the rich and varied musical community of which I am a part. People ask me, “How many bands are you in?” It’s actually just one, but it’s a really big band. Thanks to Don Conoscenti for advice and inspiration and for the bass, and to Chip, Moe, and Billy for instruments and gear. Thanks to my community of Alamosa, the San Luis Valley and the Southern Colorado-Northern New Mexico area for the support and the soil in which to grow. I truly love it here. Thanks to coach Helene and also the Dreampower Aikikai community. Thanks to the web and weave of my family, which seems to extend indefinitely on all sides. Thanks to my children and grandchildren for the joy and love they bring. Thanks especially to Teri for walking this winding, often invisible path with me, and for making it worth walking.

Graphic design—Kris Gosar (Gosar Design) and Michael Bennett
Photography by Jonathan Wright
Cover painting by Kris Gosar
Tray card painting by Dave Montgomery
Engineered and produced by Don Richmond

All Songs BMI

Contact:
Don Richmond
P.O. Box 825
Alamosa CO 81101
800-689-7786

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