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1. |
Heart Off My Sleeve
02:19
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I’m sorry tonight’s not the night
I’m the man we’d both like me to be
I swear it’s not you or even anyone else
I’m just trying to get this heart off my sleeve
I’ve got to watch out for personal questions
and pulling wheat out with the weeds
I’m not trying to wash a bad taste out of my mouth
I’m just trying to get this heart off my sleeve
Try to be nice and still come out looking nasty
the grizzled old wolf clothed in virgin fleece
crawling out of bed, looking in the mirror
at one p.m. in the morning
trying to figure out who the hell I’m supposed to be
I hope someday I’ll get to see
the results of my good deeds
in the meantime, please excuse me
I’m just trying to get this heart off my sleeve
Swinging in on a vine to an emotional rescue
but Tarzan ain’t who anyone wants or needs
searching for a face that’s anything other than
the one that I was born with
why can’t I draw a line short of anything to please?
Maybe someday I’ll think I’ve earned
the right to climb down from this tree
In the meantime, please excuse me
I’m just trying to get this heart off my sleeve
©Terry Heislen, bmi
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2. |
Gray to Green
04:29
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Father was just a rumor,
Mother lived at two jobs;
a half-dozen aunts who came and went
and never spared the rod.
The men I knew seemed to live on the stoops,
their days were posing and drink.
They were going to or coming from jail or a war,
and trying hard not to think.
Where was I gonna go?
How was I gonna change my scene?
What could I know
to change my world from gray to green?
My best friend started huffin’ –
faded away like paint in the air.
The world didn’t seem to miss him,
just ground on like he was never there.
My brother played ball but never had a chance,
he never could learn to read.
From a crowded classroom to a seat at the bar,
playground hero ain’t much to be.
Where were they going to?
How were they gonna change their scene?
What could they know
to change their world from gray to green?
Now I’m just a rumor --
I’m better off less known.
While prison teaches my brother how to hate every day
for the crime of nowhere to go.
The preachers call on us all to forgive,
the world just wants revenge.
I’m just lookin’ for a place to lay low,
crawlin’ my way West.
Going to I don’t know -
somewhere I’m praying I will see
an open hand who knows
how to trade my gray world for green.
© Terry Heislen, bmi
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3. |
Who Were You
03:27
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Where are you now? Where did you go?
Did you pawn your crown for something we don’t know?
Was a bit of it real, the face we thought we knew?
Did we ever hold a piece of the one true you?
Can you tell me – can you tell me – can you tell me who were you?
Is it still a big deal when the eagle flies?
Still make you feel real to treat twenties like fives?
Who were you then? Who are you on this day?
Has there ever been anyone who saw all the way
to the child, the teen, the old one you’ve hidden away?
Where do you walk? Are there days you still fly?
Can you talk the talk of yesterday’s life?
Can you tell me – can you tell me – who were you?
©Terry Heislen, bmi
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4. |
Certainty
03:04
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Some say they know when the world will end
Some give the date they say it began
Some say they hold the key to life
Some have a master plan
Some say there is a special one
who waits for every man
But I -- I don’t know
Some say life is ruled by destiny
Some credit chance for all they’ve done
Some say life’s purpose lies in work
Some only live for fun
Some say they know what Jesus wants
from each and every one
But I -- I don’t know
I don’t know anything for certain --
that’s what I’ve learned
Every sure thing that I’ve bet on
is every time that I’ve been burned
Some claim to have their lives well ordered--
they keep the horse before the cart
Some men are called a masterpiece,
their own best work of art
Some say that time will heal all wounds
and mend each broken heart
But I -- I don’t know
I don’t know anything for certain --
that’s what I’ve learned
Every sure thing that I’ve bet on
is every time that I’ve been burned
Some say that time will heal all wounds
and mend each broken heart
But I -- I don’t know
©Terry Heislen, bmi
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5. |
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Don’t tell me that you mean it like you mean it
Don’t tell me that you mean it like you mean it
Don’t ask me move from the dents I’ve worn in this old comfy chair
Don’t tell me that you mean it like you mean it
Don’t tell me that you mean it like you mean it
Don’t you dare stand up and really show you care
I’m comfortable in my slow slide down
rather be an empty suit than some damned clown
I’m quiet, respectable, pious and clean
not some box of noise out to make a scene
Don't tell me...
Nothing you can say will turn my head
Got a good life here – exciting as lead
Can’t move me off my chosen line
toward a quiet room with vats of empty time
Don't tell me...
Ah, take that passion somewhere else
don’t you care about us, don’t you care about yourself
Ah, take that passion somewhere else
don’t you dare try to dare me off that shelf
Don't tell us...
You troublemakers are all the same
trying to hold my hand to an open flame
What the hell do you want me to feel
break my jeweled egg on your frying pan of real?
Don't tell me...
©Terry Heislen, bmi
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6. |
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Steam rises from the kitchen sink
as you let the water cool
Your wife’s at work pounding out her dreams
and the kids are safe at school
It’s cold, but the car’s not running right
You’ll probably want to pull the plugs tonight
after you give yourself some time to write
and bring your family home
to the love you have to give them
It’s not a world to be cast into
where babies are driving tanks
Their parents’ lives are stamped and mortgaged
by a thousand failing banks
The world’s your palette but it’s hard to look into --
so many hurt so many for the sake of so few
No one wants to hear you sing it but you still have to
for the love you have to give them
Another night, another bar
scratching your guitar
Sweat, dreams, booze and dust
blend on the floor
for the love you have to give them
The dishes dry up above the sink
as you stare into your beer
and hope the love that’s brought you safe this far
will somehow keep you here
It’s been a few years since you slipped the yoke
some can squint at your life and call you a joke
but there’s a smile and dance even though you’re broke
in the love you have to give them
©Terry Heislen, bmi
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t heislen Plano, Texas
Plays right, writes left.
Pipes, passion, and a 12-string.
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