Miss Sublime Craig Hubbard, Harmony By Brinton Clark

i can't run and i can't walk
i can't strum and i can't talk in rhymn
Miss Sublime
i don't like here anymore
i'm stuck between the bedroom door and time
Miss Sublime
now drums are beating in the streets
another’s fallen to defeat
people fighting for a seat in line next to
Miss Sublime
i can't call back later
yes i know it matters
but i can't call back later when there’s no line
Miss Sublime
i never thought that you should waste your time
waiting around for me to come back with the summertime
Miss Sublime
now you're running at this from behind
i guess i'll never know what you expected to find
Miss Sublime
i can't call back later
yes i know is matters
but i can't call back later when theres no line
Miss Sublime
but maybe in time
we'll be fine
meh beh tu kwine
Miss Sublime

Truck Driving, By Gerry Hubbard, Performed By David Hubbard

The Man Who Could Do Anything, Original By David Hubbard

An original song from David Hubbard about a man who could do anything…..

Brand New Way Craig Hubbard

Brand New Way, Craig Hubbard

It's melting away, slipping through my fingers.
Goddamn yesterday, the thought of you still lingers
Walking up the stairs to an empty room
Dust on the table, but in the shadows they still loom.

It's melting away, like snow on a mountain
Goddamn yesterday, neither lotion nor a fountain
Can take me back to that 20 year old child
Spending Euro-dollars, wondering what a smile still buys

And why I still love you, is cause you're wonderful and brave
And why I still need you, is cause you get sillier with age
And I'm not afraid, of it melting away
Into a brand new day
Into a brand new way

It's melting away, like ice cream on concrete
Goodbye yesterday, nothing there that I need
Years pass till there's nothing left to blame
And I finally realized, it's not to late to win this game

And why I still love you, is cause you're wonderful and brave
And why I still need you, is cause you get crazier with age
And I'm not afraid, of it melting away
Into a brand new day
Into a brand new way

The Party Line, By Gerry Hubbard

Two longs three shorts our crank phone rang when someone called to talk
You could hear that single phone line hum and the hand receiver squawk
We all were on a party line, about ten farms or so
Those darned old phones would barely work in heavy rains or snow

We’d get a call from someone, as we talked of farms and sin
We could hear some other phones click on as neighbors listened in
Patty’s pregnant, Mike left Joan, Frank’s bull just won first prize
Sometimes we heard the neighbors laugh or gasp in stunned surprise

Gladys Mace was “Central” that you rang one long to get
For that small group of neighbors, she was like the Internet
“Three cars drove slow up by Earle’s pond ”, the caller wondered why
“That’s city people hunting deer”, came back her terse reply

“We heard some shots, there’s flashing lights on the hill by Raymond Brown.”
“That’s Sheriff Van Wie and the State Police, they’re hunting Rocco down.”
Four shorts would call Clarence Ellis and Glenny, Doris and Paul
Four longs would get Cook’s General Store, and it wasn’t in a mall

Two longs, one short got Hallecks, and David and Flora Dell
And there wasn’t any limit to the stories folks would tell
Otis shot a rabid fox, our dog fell off the tower
A Marine on leave has hit a tree at ninety miles an hour

Aggie Hubbard slipped and fell, she broke her hip and leg
And where’s the best price you can get to buy or sell some eggs
Chicken pox and whooping cough, young kids were caught with beer
LaVerne has just shot Russell’s goat, he thought it was a deer

Wayne’s in bed, we think it’s flu, he’s got a real bad cough
A Grand Gorge boy’s been torn apart by a tractor power take-off
Gerald was bitten by a cat, he tried to feed it stones
A Gilboa man has shot himself, bereaved and all alone.

Tom Haskins & Pat Russell’s sleigh ride almost got them killed
When they hit the rear of Miller’s car parked there on Haskin Hill
Tommy’s fine with bad scalp cuts and major scrapes and pain
But Patty Russell broke her neck, she’ll never walk again

Mundane, dramatic, birth and death, all stories hit the wires
Love and hate and jealousy and changing tractor tires
Those old phones were our life-line to neighbors, friends and kin
We somehow never seemed to care if others listened in

We stayed connected, talked and laughed, and never realized that
We were there at the beginning of the world’s first “On-Line Chat”

Notes To “The Party Line”

Rocco was the name of a guy from New York City, who wanted to get rid of his wife. In Grand Central Station, he conned a women who was a stranger to him into believing he was an under-cover cop looking for smugglers. He convinced this women that the box-like thing he had was an x-ray camera and he got her to point this device at his wife and click the “shutter”. The shutter was really the triggers of a double-barreled 12 gauge shotgun loaded with No. 2 birdshot. His wife was hit in the legs and crippled but not killed and Rocco soon became the prime suspect

Rocco had been a “boarder” and had hunted on Raymond Browns farm. With the cops after him, he fled from the city to the Brown farm where the police and sheriff found him.

Rocco was in a remote area in a sleeping bag in the snow when the police surrounded him. He was armed with several rifles and pistols. A gun battle ensued and he was shot dead by a state trooper with a rifle but not before he put a bullet through the sleeve of another trooper.

My dad was a deputy sheriff at the time and our whole family loaded into the car and went to the scene just minutes after the battle. All the police were there still standing around, the Browns and many of the neighbors were there.

We were allowed complete access. The trooper showed me the hole through his sleeve and I remember walking up very close to Rocco’s corpse and, surprised at how pale he was, asking my dad why.

“He’s dead,” he said.

And I pondered that for a while, wondering why the other dead people I’d seen at funerals were not pale. I was 7 years old. 

Clifton's On The Lam Blues, Original, David Hubbard

If You Like The Blues......

Clifton’s On The Lam Blues,

An Original By David Hubbard…

America Tonight, Original By Craig Hubbard

America Tonight

© 2002 Craig Hubbard

© 2002 Craig Hubbard

Hum throughout the day, while I obey
Sing through the night, in a city of light
Laugh and portray while situations weigh
In America tonight

I have the right to choose my life
To pass through every doorway
To be angry and fight
In America tonight

I'll add up the numbers, and ignore the hunger and what's right
I'll drive down lonely highways, not let you know what's inside

I have the right to waste my life
To pass by every doorway
Gather or take flight

Lets sit together smoking cigarette's
Watching the moon rise. I'm on your side
Lovers on a hill we'll shake our heads
And watch what's happening. In America tonight

Humming through the day, doesn't make it okay
Singing through the night, doesn't make it all right

I'll add up the numbers, and ignore the hunger and the strife
I'll drive down endless highways, live by the gun and the knife
I'll paint my masterpiece, and not till darkness will I rise
On America tonight

I have the right to live my life
To pass through every doorway
Extinguish or ignite

Lets sit together smoking cigarette's
Watching the moon rise. I'm on your side
Lovers on a hill we'll shake our heads
And watch what's happening. In America tonight

In America tonight

The Peddler, The Ballad Of Nate Simons By Gerry Hubbard, David on Guitar

The Peddler

The peddler, an old Jewish man, drove up from New York
He went to church on Saturdays and stayed away from pork.
His dull green Chevy paneled truck was built in ‘32
And he dressed in denim overalls, faded, worn and blue

A real life old time peddler, his route was long and rough
And he drove the Catskill Mountain roads selling all his stuff
Straw hats and jeans and sewing thread, his truck was crammed with goods
And he’d start out high and end up low just like we knew he would

He had a scraggly unkempt beard all sprinkled through with gray
His deep set eyes held a guarded look that never went away
His manners were impeccable, old world genteel and fine
His voice, accented, rumbled low, but always warm and kind

A rolling-dry-goods-hardware-store, he’d show up close to noon
And to keep his faith, for lunch he ate potatoes with a spoon
That old green truck was loaded with his memories and his dreams
As well as kaki shirts and pants and gingham by the ream

He’d always block the tires so his old truck wouldn’t roll
And I bet he had the shadows of old pogroms on his soul
Of all the many millions he knew of one a least
An uncle, brother, nephew, a neighbor or a niece

I heard his wife took her own life in a very painful way
By drinking lye or DDT on a bleak, besotted day
Other’s lives are mysteries we cannot fathom well
I guess she changed a hell to heaven or heaven into hell

We don’t know where he came from and we don’t know where he went
But he still lives in our memories as strange and old and bent
And when I think about him now, I’d really like to know
Would he be surprised we remember him from 60 years ago?

Easy From Now On, Cover By David Hubbard

Easy From Now On (Quarter Moon In A Ten Cent Town)

Acoustic By David Hubbard

Written By Susanna Clark/Carlene Routh

Covered By Emmy Lou Harris

There he goes gone again 
Same old story's gotta come to an end 
Lovin' him was a one way street 
But I'm gettin' off where the crossroads meet 
It's a quarter moon in a ten cent town 
Time for me to lay my heartaches down 
Saturday night gonna make myself a name 
Take a month of sundays to try and explain 

It's gonna be easy to fill 
The heart of a thirsty woman 
Harder to kill the ghost of a no good man 
And I'll be ridin' high in a fandangled sky 
It's gonna be easy; It's gonna be easy from now on 

Raw as whip but clean as a bone 
Soft to touch when you take me home 
When the mornin' comes and it's time for me to leave 
Don't worry 'bout me, I got a wild card up my sleeve 

It's gonna be easy to fill 
The heart of a thirsty woman 
Harder to kill the ghost of a no good man 
And I'll be ridin' high in a fandangled sky 
It's gonna be easy, It's gonna be easy 
It's gonna be easy from now on

I Can Hear The Storm Coming, Original, Craig Hubbard

Well, the paint and the pictures are falling off the wall

And I can’t hear a thing through lies and alcohol

The ringing in my ears has finally settled down

And I’m on my hands and my knees with my ear to the ground

And he says Baby, don’t go out there, aw don’t leave me all alone

‘Cause the rain is falling and

Ive got my ear to the ground

And I can hear the storm a-coming

Ive got my ear to the ground

And I can hear the storm a-coming…… 

The Milk Check Original By Gerry Hubbard, David Hubbard On Guitar

Brought up on a dairy farm in the Catskills in New York
We always had enough to eat with beef and veal and pork
With veggies from the garden and milk from Jersey cows
I guess we lived a life style that’s called subsistence now.

But always short of money, we couldn’t buy most things for cash
And there always were a lot more days than dollars in our stash
The milk checks came out twice a month, the fifteenth and the first
And sometimes weeks were not too bad but sometimes weeks were worse

When we needed clothes for senior trips, we usually sold a cow
Which seems so self-defeating when I think about it now
By trading in the future for what we needed right away
The money just got smaller when it came to milk-check day

So we charged some things at Bailey’s Store, then across the road at Cook’s
And we charged our gas at Raymond Brown’s and got by hook or crook
Until our mother softly said, “I guess we now can pay.
“Wally Stryker brought the mail, the milk check came today.”

“The weights are off, the price is wrong, the butter fat's too low”
Our Dad would say ‘bout every time in words both loud and slow
So Mom would firmly tell us kids, “Better go outside and play.”
“Your Dad has got to pay the bills, the milk check came today.”

At his battered home-made desk, I still can see my Dad
As he pulled old bills from pigeon holes and paid with what he had
The checks he wrote left handed, as he shooed us kids away
Sustained the farm and family when the milk check came that day.

So we milked the cows each morning and we milked the cows each night
In the winter time we shoveled shit, baled hay in summers bright
I think I started planning then so I ‘d never have to say
“I guess we now can pay the bills, the milk check came today.”

So I grubbed my way through college, driving truck and digging ditch
With luck, I got some real good jobs, some folks would call us rich
But I guess I’m only richer now in quite a different way
When long ago I heard these words, “The milk check came today.”

That damned old farm has branded me with thoughts I can’t dispel
And leaves me with these tales & lies I always have to tell
Sometimes at night before I sleep old sounds and words hold sway
Like “fit to eat” & “co’ bos’” & “the milk check came today”……………...

We Dance, Pavement, Cover By David Hubbard

there is no castration fear
in a chance you'll be with me
we'll dance
we'll dance
we'll dance
we'll dancebut no one will dance with us
in this zany town
chim-chim-chim, sing a song of praise
for your elders, they're in the back
pick out some brazilian nuts for your engagement
check that expiration date, man,
it's later than you think
you can't enjoy yourself,  
i can't enjoy myself
you can't enjoy yourself
i can't enjoy myself
move that swing and 
watch it drop straight like an arc
but i won't be there to hear them no, no no
'cause i don't have a clue anymore
maybe we could dance
maybe we could dance
maybe we could dance together
together,
together


  

Watch the Angels Fall..Craig Hubbard April 2011

Watch the Angels Fall..Craig Hubbard

Will you be here with me to watch the angels fall?

Out on a moonless night, we hear the sirens call. 
I see your face in pictures and pages.
I carry the fire, commune with the sages.
Will you be here with me to watch the angels fall?

The oceans wide and the deserts deep. 
Will stars in the night guide you here please?

Bottles and cigarettes mark the time alone.
Wondering through the night, so many empty roads.
I hear your voice in sirens and sages.
I put out the fire, commune with the ages.
Will you be here with me to watch the angels fall?

I pull you back from the rivers edge.
A stronger man is my pledge to be. 

The oceans wide and the deserts deep. 
Will stars in the night guide you  back to me?
Out on a moonless night, we hear the sirens call. 
Will you be here with me to watch the angels fall?

An Incident While Backswathing Original By Gerry Hubbard

LaVerne the oldest, thirteen years, drove that old orange tractor
While sister Marilyn and then me, with pitchforks followed after

We’d follow close behind Laverne as the cutter bar cut hay
And swipe our pitchforks sideways to cleanly clear the way

The summer dry, the mower din would flush all sorts of critters
Bees and hoppers, flies galore, and new-born field mice litters

Swallows from the barn would swoop and dive to dine in flight

Love Is Love Craig Hubbard 3.2.03

Love is Love

Craig Hubbard 3.2.03

Love is Love

I need you.
I need your sunshine.
I need the spark in your eye, undisturbed opine
I need you. And you say,

Love is the closest thing to love
It's a hot summer night
It's a leather motorcycle glove
Need is not closer to love than love

I want you.
It' s true
I want your panurgy and energy
I want you. And you say,

Love is the closest thing to love
It's a pistol in my pocket
It's the miracle of stars above
Want is not closer to love than love

I miss you and the wild things that you do
I miss long rides in the dark and
The placement of your tattoo

Love is the closest thing to love
It's standing on a cliff
The stumble and the shove
Missing me is not closer to love than love

Missing you is not closer to love than love