Cardinals & Fireflies (2014) by Bill Stutzman

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

Cardinals & Fireflies

A red flash stopped me in my tracks

I interrupted my friend—I had to interrupt him.

That tuft of feathers took me back

I hadn’t hoped to get so close again.

 

I went out driving with my girl

We had the windows down, and we heard them singing round the dale

A sudden streak, a bright red curl

We saw the sacred through our windshield veil

 

There’s something special flying by

Something like radiance electrified

Some people see it all the time and walk on by

But I—I can’t get used to things divine,

Like cardinals or fireflies.

 

I took my love out for a walk

A spark of light, a twinkle—it made us jump a little

Not in a picture in my book but on my block

It was my first time solving luminescent riddles

 

We tried to catch one from the crowd

The light was dancing, dodging—it drove us to the lakeside

We were surrounded by a cloud of light

We were transported through the glowing wake-tide

 

Chorus

 

I had a dream some years ago

I still recall it like a jolt—a strong but silent lightning bolt

I looked up to the starry hosts

Into a face I couldn’t see or hold

 

I felt a stir like countless birds

The stars like fireflies flew round—I sensed the cosmos coming down

And I saw a cardinal today—my word!

I think he might just have a light—I think I’ve got some light to shine around.

 

Copyright 2009, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

Looking for Love

I went looking for love, and I searched the whole world through,

Up back alleys and down Main Streets, down every avenue.

I went looking for something good, for something pure and true,

Must have traveled a million miles to come right back to you.

 

I went looking for hope that the old had been made new,

Blind men seeing and no one dying without a cause or clue.

I went looking for peace—still found wolves among the ewes

Must have looked at a million eyes whose tears were crying for you

 

I went looking for faith among all those free to choose

People fenced in by their own gates of lust and pride’s sweet glue

I went looking for freedom’s ring—there’s still more work to do

Must have counted a million locks whose only key is you.

 

There’s an answer out there no one wants to hear

We all keep it wrapped up or repackage it for fear

No one wants to be left out or told where they shouldn’t go

No one wants to be wrong and know how little we all know.

 

I went looking for love, and I searched the whole world through

There’s a wide web of wondrous works down every avenue.

I went looking for something good, for something pure and true

Must have found out a million times—the only one is you.

Must have found out a million times—the only one is you.

Must have found out a million times, my only love is you.

 

Copyright 2011, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman and Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

Asleep Beside Me

Tonight out on the prairie, wish you could see the moonlight glow

We hardly need the headlights—the summer wheat’s as white as snow.

And the fields are spectacular, 

The gravel roads superb

And I want to share it with you, 

But you’re too lovely to disturb

Asleep beside me

And what can I do?  I want to have my cake and eat it too.

 

A night like this in Paris would give anyone the chills

 The one time that I saw it, it seemed the world stood still

And all the streets were like a movie scene

The air was clear and light

And it might have been a dream-come-true

But you weren’t there that night

Asleep beside me

So what could I do?  I couldn’t have my cake and eat it too.

 

Time and again I get the best things

Things that I always waited for

And if I could, could I suggest this?

That without you still it’s not the best thing anymore.

 

The night before I met you, I looked up to the sky

The canopy above me was aflame with Northern Lights

And I had never seen such sights before

I’ve never seen them since

But the next time that I do, you’ll be

By no coincidence

Asleep beside me

And what will I do?  I’ll want to have my cake and eat it too.

 

Back out on the prairie we have many miles to go

And as you stir from shotgun there’s so much I’d like to know

And all my questions shoot like meteors 

Across the midnight sky

So if answers won’t be found

But you’re still here

I won’t ask why

Asleep beside me.  Can it be true?  I get to have my cake and eat it too.

 

Copyright 2010, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

For All the Worlds

There are worlds below my feet

Things that turn the earth and crumble the concrete

But they do not perceive me up here on the street

 

But both our worlds are changing

And we are not the only cause

And I wonder while I’m waiting

When our worlds will be made whole without a flaw.

 

There are worlds above the sky

Planetary paths and stars that spin on high

Are we far too small to ever catch their eye?

For there are worlds past our sense,

Things we cannot see in lab experiments,

Yet there is matter there of greater consequence.

 

And both our worlds are changing

And we are not the only cause

And I worry while I’m waiting

That I’ll never understand what gives me pause

 

For there are worlds beyond the seas

Worlds in the smallest specks and furthest galaxies

And there are worlds that you have built

Inside of me.

 

There are worlds in my heart

Built from hi’s good-bye’s and roads that end and start

And I would not be who I am without your part

 

But both our worlds are changing

And we are not the only cause

But I know whom I’m awaiting

And new creation breaks upon us like the dawn

 

Both our worlds are changing

And we are not the final cause

And when all is new creation

Then our hearts will be made whole without a flaw

New creation breaks upon us like the dawn.

 

Copyright 2012, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman and Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

Marian’s Lament

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman (2011), 

based on Roger Lancelyn Green’s The Adventures of Robin Hood

 

Robin was awakened by the sound of stifled sobs he knew were from his lovely lady fair.

Bursting in to comfort her, instinctively, he stretched his arms to hold her but he found she was not there.

And though she hadn’t wandered far

He saw the distance in her breaking heart

As she tried to hide her tears beneath her hair.

 

“Marian, my life, my love!  What troubles you, my weeping dove?” said Robin as he knelt beside her chair.

“Robert, please don’t laugh,” she cried. “You’ll think that I’m just silly to confide the real source of my despair.

But the songs on every minstrel’s tongue

Tell tales like those they told when we were young

But we’re no longer in those songs that fill the air.”

 

Robin sat perplexed in thought. He felt his eyes and cheeks grow hot and struggled to stand tall with shoulders squared.

“Marian,” he said, “there was a time when none could best my strength nor rival you in beauty—none would dare!”

“But, Rob, they now sing of a younger queen—

A Wakefield Forest bride of George-a-Greene

And for you and me they give no thought nor care.”

 

“Marian, our tale’s not done, I once was Earl of Huntingdon, and when our king returns his spoils we’ll share.

And I will find this George-a-Greene and Bettris, his impostor forest queen, and I will teach them to beware.”

“Oh, Robin, how you speak so foolishly,

And how I too fight back this jealousy,

And how I wish that I could say I didn’t care.

 

“All these years with Merry Men and I remain Maid Marian, 

And I’ve been true to you and you to me.

My quiver’s full of arrows still but not the children who have filled

My dreams that turn to nightmares unfulfilled.

And you, my darling archer, know

That sin’s how much you miss the mark, and so

You’ve no sin against my heart—

Yet I’m still pierced right through that part.”

 

“Marian, it’s not too late—we’re not too old, and there’s no hill so great that I would not climb to declare

That by my troth and by my love, by Holy Mary’s name above, forgotten or still famous you’re most fair.”

But he knew he had to break her heart

For wanted men and death aren’t far apart.

And for that day no lover can prepare.

 

And though she hadn’t wandered far,

He saw the distance in her broken heart

As she struggled to grow old, a maiden fair—

A legend who from fame wished she were spared.

 

Copyright 2011, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

The Big Burn

 

20 August 1910

Dearest Magdalene and all my children,

There’s not much time now to explain

Why I put you on that old Milwaukee train

The very same that sent the spark

That caused the flame that burns my heart

A wall of fire keeps us apart

With me a facing death and you on Railroad’s Ark

 

I’ve never seen a hurricane

In Idaho there ain’t much wind and not much rain

But I hear howlin’ now like Cain

And I like Abel soon will feel this fire’s pain

And I won’t try to save our place

The work of many years this forest fire will lay to waste

But ‘fore I go I’ll play my part

To face this flame so you can ride on Railroad’s Ark

 

I hear a hundred fires or more were set ablaze

A now it’s one big burn that eats all in its way

I watched the trestles burn behind you as you left

Into the tunnel that would save you all from death

Two miles long into Montana far away

And from that tomb when you come out won’t you please pray

That I will rise again and meet you here someday

And you won’t have to leave, and I won’t have to stay.

 

The water’s boiling in St. Joe

And me and Harney down the road now have to go

So if you find this note please know

God had to make this letter fireproof to show

That this love was just the spark

That set a fire in our hearts

And as we’re purified by flame and set apart

That’s why I put you on that rolling railroad ark.

Build again on our good start

And I’ll be waiting when you ride that last train ark.

I love you all with all my heart,

Your faithful husband, father, soon now to depart.

 

Copyright 2010, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

View from a Hospital Bed

Words and Music by Bill Stutzman

 

You and I don’t have a choice

And so this hospital bed will just have to do

And from this spot we will hoist

Our little flag in the room—like our own little moon.

 

And I’ll tell jokes and write you songs

You’ll close your eyes while I play and just hum along

And we’ll pretend we’re in some place where we belong.

 

I recall as girls and boys

My friends and I would spend hours being one of our heroes

And of all of our joys

It’s this one that I hold: we could be us or them or both

 

And we told jokes, and we wrote songs

We closed our eyes while we played and just sang along

And we’d pretend to be some place where we belonged

 

And I’ve been thinking about if this is all we’ve got

How some get Disneyland and some hospital cots

Some people say they got each other, and that’s a lot

But a love like that don’t come for cheap—that’s a love that’s dearly bought

But I believe it’s true.

True for me, true for you.

 

When I look back on all my days

And the places we’ll have seen from our hospital room

I think won’t want to trade

All the world for the light that we found in the gloom

 

When I told jokes and wrote you songs

And you would close your eyes and laugh and just sing along

And we both found the very place where we belonged.

 

Copyright 2009, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

Snowfall Waltz

 

Pocketfuls of snow

Falling, falling to earth below

Gigantic flakes

Make the clinging leaves quake

And stick to my face so I flinch

There’s already an inch

Before I reach the door

Turning cold gray to glory restored

 

Stepping in my tracks

Falling, let’s make angels on our backs

Impressions made

 From the moments we played

Lay frozen, so tighten your grip

On my arm so to slip is to fall into grace

And I will catch you like delicate flakes.

 

Oh, does the world on this morning look just like a bride

All dressed in white

Her lover’s delight

And, oh, what a springtime that her love will bring

A feast from the greatest to least

For He has redeemed her.

 

I can see you speak

Your words fall like fog on my cheek

Settling softly

But sinking in deep.

 

Copyright 2001, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

Waiting Lullaby (for Tyndale)

 

Softly sleep now, let fears subside.

In God’s love be still and abide

Long we’ve watched and waited to hold

And share in joys untold

 

What did you hear

Before you appeared?

And do you recognize this song?

Your mom and I

With love and hope stood by

And watched your little feet respond

 

What new sights fill your eyes

What new sounds and lullabies

Each good gift that you see

Is from God above—like you to me

 

Copyright 2001, 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman/Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

Everyday Things

I caught a glimpse of the real world peeking

A wood sprite or nymph where least I was seeking.

And what always seemed just ordinary

For the first time revealed divine mystery.

 

How do we know when we’ve reached beyond reason,

Explain quarks and cosmos and then reach out to seize them;

When we live next door to immortal souls

With flesh and blood needs and loftiest goals?

 

If I could borrow a small cup of flour

I could do magic in two to three hours.

And if you brought a bottle of red

Then we could break bread

 And make a feast fit for kings out of everyday things.

 

It’s easy to look for things that are broken,

But worms can grow wings because Heaven has spoken.

And you can watch death start to work in reverse,

And you can break bread and turn back the curse.

 

So, if I could borrow a small cup of flour

I could do magic in two to three hours

And if you brought a bottle of red

Then we could break bread

And make a feast fit for kings out of everyday things.

 

Copyright 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman and Songsmith Stutzman Music

 

Work to Do

Whoever’s never felt that nothing matters anyway

Has never dealt with what he truly loves

And what it means to fail and fail and fail—at least I’ve failed.

 

But anyone who stops there and who says that’s all there is

Has never come to terms with why we’re here

And who we are and what it means to live—to truly live

 

‘Cause there’s more work still to be done,

There’s more art to make still and more battles to be won

And it may all be just for an audience of One

God bless that too,

Oh, we’ve got work to do.

 

So many books we’ve judged by covers,

That’s not all bad, I’ve discovered

There are days when my beloved feels like paperbacks 

With decaf coffee stains—and won’t complain

 

And our lives are all a mess with cream and sugar and success

And not one of us can guess how all the dirty work

Will yield the harvest blest—oh, fruit most blessed

 

But there’s work still to be done

There’s more wick to trim still and more races to be run

And it may all be just for an audience of One

God bless that too,

Oh, we’ve got work to do.

 

We’ve got work to do.

Don’t give up you weary ones, we will pull through

 

Well, our lives are but a mist, they say,

And all we build gets blown away

But I believe that every work of faith we do in Jesus’ name remains

Not one’s in vain

And there’s not one work inglorious,

Too small or too laborious,

That will not be victoriously resurrected with us in that day.

Oh, brand new day.

 

But there’s work still to be done

There’s more feet to wash still, we’ve only just begun

And it may all be just for an audience of One

God bless that too—

Oh, we’ve got work to do.

 

Copyright 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman and Songsmith Stutzman Music

Mountain Chickadee

With fragrance of pollen and pine-wood

It came on the wind

Familiar as tales from my childhood

Retold once again

A birdsong so clear and so sweet

Inviting belief

From somewhere up high in the tree

It’s calling for me

 

Ta dee-da, ta-dum

The King’s on His throne.

Te Deum, ta-da

We’re on our way home.

 

Sometimes you know when you’re wand’ring and lost

And sometimes you don’t

And some days you’ll see what the good fight can cost

And some days you won’t

And sometimes you’ve gotta sink deep

Before you can sing

 

Ta dee-da, ta-dum

The King’s on His throne.

Te Deum, ta-da

We’re on our way home.

 

The blessed one, He died on His own tree

The grave couldn’t hold him

The captives went free

Many who hear will hear what they want

But that chickadee, he sings the same song.

 

Ta dee-da, ta-dum

The King’s on His throne.

Te Deum, ta-da

We’re on our way home.

 

It’s finished, it’s done

The king’s on His throne

The last word’s been spoken

We’re on our way home

You lost ones who weep,

The King’s on His throne.

He finds and He keeps,

We’re on our way home.

You broken, you torn

The King’s on His throne,

Your joy comes with morn,

We’re on our way home

You hungry, you meek,

The King’s on His throne

You’ll find what you seek

We’re on our way home.

Copyright 2014 words and music by Bill Stutzman and Songsmith Stutzman Music