Music
Autumn Highway
“Listen to the whole album, read about the making of the album and the individual songs along with the lyrics and information about the players on the album.”
Autumn
Highway
“Listen to the whole album, read about the making of the album and the individual songs along with the lyrics and information about the players on the album.”
Track 1. Autumn Highway
I always knew this would be the first song that would set the tone of the album. This is also the oldest song on the album (first version written in 2006). Some seeds take a long time to germinate. Dave Jone’s violin sweeps through the piece like a wind through a late fall forest. Lovely upright bass by Patrick McPhail and creative percussion from Ray. And we’re off !
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Ray Dillard (Percussion), David Jones (Violin), Patrick McPhail (Upright Bass)
LyricsAutumn Highway
The mystery painter draws his brush
Across the branches of the trees
He doesn’t gloat nor does he blush
Like Toulouse-Lautrec at a strip tease
Red into gold, they fall gently with hardly a sound
Turning and tumbling they crumble
Upon the cold ground
Shadows lengthen cross the road
The sun is strobing out in code
Make haste on roads in good repair
Before they’re left in winter’s care
No one can take us,
We drive ourselves where we must go
Sooner or later, I think maybe later, we know
This might not be our road
But it is the one were on
The road it veers west
We’ve lost the map
We argue about where we’re going
Give it a rest
But we can’t stop
This might not be our road
But it is the one were on
Shadows lengthen, as we travel
Shadows lengthen, as we unravel
Our destination’s clues
This might not be our road
But it’s the one were on
Copyright Hawkins Johnston, April 18, 2004
Track 2. Continental Drift
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This song came to me watching a large Latino family seeing their daughter off at a boarding gate at Los Angeles airport. I was passing through from Hawaii where I had for some inexplicable reason bought a ukulele. As is my custom with a new instrument, I wanted to make it mine by writing a song on it.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Ukulele), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Max Dyer ( Pizzicato Cello and Cello)
Continental Drift
Jeans in tatters
A pack with what matters
A cell phone to call home
A book for the plane
We live in perfection
Our love your protection
Why would you leave
All this behind
Everybody is letting go
Widen the cracks, and let the wild seeds grow
Wait for the static, from a distant shore
Even the rocks below, continue to flow
And continents drift
It’s her direction
Not our selection
Pressure building
Then comes today
She might call this Sunday
She’s not a runaway
We let her slip from our arms
Down that long jet-a-way.
Everybody is letting go
Widen the cracks, and let the wild seeds grow
Wait for the static, from a distant shore
Even the rocks below, continue to flow
And continents drift
Watch the contrails, break up in the sky
Felt our world shift, with that kiss good bye
Everybody is letting go
Widen the cracks, and let the wild seeds grow
Wait for the static, from a distant shore
Even the rocks below, continue to flow
And continents drift
La La La La La La La La La
Copyright Hawkins Johnston, February 3 2006
Track 3: I’m Sold
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This is a love song about finding the peace from acknowledging the strength and space lent by another person which allows you to grow into your own skin. I often dedicate this to my wife when in concert. I think she likes it.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Max Dyer (Bass, Cello)
I’m Sold
Born of a woman
So you’d think I would have got it right
From the first time that I met her
But some things are learned
Like being led to the perfect light
Of the reasons to believe in her
Where ever you are
That’s where I’m heading for
Whatever I say
You’re already there
Whatever I do
You’re way in front of me
I’m a follower
Cause I’m Sold
I was confused
By sweet dreams turned into hard regrets
But somehow we kept talking
Funny the way
You end up right back where you started from
When you pick yourself up and keep walking
Where ever you are
That’s where I’m heading for
Whatever I say
You’re already there
Whatever I do
You’re way in front of me
I’m a follower
Cause I’m Sold
Where ever you are
That’s where I’m heading for
Whatever I say
You’re already there
Whatever I do
You’re way in front of me
I’m a follower
Cause I’m Sold
Copyright Hawkins Johnston January 16, 2012
Track 4. Wishbone
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We struggled with whether this country zydeco inflect romp of a song was going to work. Fortunately, persistence and some great playing won the day. Here we have everyone playing a little out of their comfort zone. This is confirmation of the maxim that the more fun you have with a song the better it sounds. Ayeee cher !
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitars), David Jones (Fiddle), Patrick McPhail (Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion), Douglas Romanow ( Accordion)
Alison Bell, Vince Filo-Carroll, Meagan Simpson and Kenny Parry (Backing Vocals)
Wishbone
Way back, in a simpler day
My mother, said there is a way
To make hard decisions play
A wishbone, never throw it away
Hold tight, pull and fight
One hand is holding on to the truth
Wishbone, one side winning
Wishbone , one side losing
Ohhh, How I struggle for my soul
Wishbone one side dreaming
Wishbone one side needing
Ohhh How I struggle for control
But wishbone how I want you whole
Fences, I’ve been sitting on
Wonder’in, how I’m going to get
Go’in , making my own way
Trenches, I’ve been digging deeper
Steeper, with every passing day
Hold tight, pull and fight
Which hand is holding on to the truth?
Wishbone, dry and brittle
Wishbone, breaks down the middle
Do I shrug and stay the same
Which fate, is appealing
That friend, I’m not revealing
It’s all part of the game
But Wishbone how I want you whole
Chicken, who is calling who
Chicken, who is doing the
Pick’n, of the best way to go
Hold tight, pull and fight
Wishbone tell me what you know
Wishbone tell me what you know
Copyright Hawkins Johnston March 31 2015
Track 5. Lonely Girl
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This modern urban vignette takes place on the University subway line in Toronto. I observed my two characters and imagined the deeper story as the interior reflections and sudden bursts of exterior scenery and sunlight strobed across the subway car.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, acoustic guitar), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Electric Bass), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ)
Lonely Girl
So you think you’re the only one
Is that what you really fear
A fetal ball curled round your mobile phone
Someone whisperin’ in your ear
What do you see
I’m a ghost in the scenery
I’d like to be
Someone you would like to get to know
All I’m looking for
Is a lonely girl
With furrowed brow
And your head bent low
How many of those friends
Do you really know?
Where’s the space for our love to grow
So I’ll have to let you go
I can’t compete
With your persistent little friend
Are you so complete?
That I can’t find a way to get to you
All I’m looking for
Is a lonely girl
The more we know
The less we feel
You know what I’m looking for
All I’m looking for is a lonely girl
Copyright Hawkins Johnston March 30 2013
Track 6. Maybe ( I Can Still Write You A Love Song)
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Sometimes amongst all the shadows and shadings you need a little shimmer. No need to put the songwriter on a couch for this one. A sincere pure pop confession of affection.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Patrick McPhail (Bass), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ, Mellotron)
Maybe (I Can Still Write You A Love Song)
You say I must have lost that muscle
The one I had when we were young
That was when love was a desperate hustle
Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I
Can still write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
I can still write all the librettos
For all the silly show tunes that you inspire
When I see you in a black dress and stilettos
Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I
Can still write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Tongue in cheek
Makes it hard to speak
My dominate
Is a little weak
My strumming hand
Is my five piece band
Each note is strong
But not too bland
You know I like me when you are happy
And, you are happy almost every day
A simple truth, no need to get sappy
Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I
Can still write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I
Can still write you a love song
Copyright Hawkins Johnston November 9 2013
Track 7. Miles to Kill
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I have always thought that one of the most intimate of spaces is the interior of a darkened car on an empty highway at midnight. Thoughts slip from mind to mouth massaged by the lullaby hum of tire on pavement and the trance induced by the yellow line undulating like a cobra outside your windshield. When I first heard the mix of this song, Max Dyer’s cellos broke me open like a baseball bat taken to a piñata.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, All Guitars, Ukulele), Don Bray (Mandolin), Ray Dillard (Percussion), Max Dyer (Bass, Cello), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ, Mellotron and Accordion)
Miles To Kill
The darkest place travels between us
Somewhere out here, on Highway Seventeen
The radio died once we passed Sault Ste Marie
The silence familiar as any place we’ve been
And the roads a golden thread
Unraveling my restless head
I have all these ruminations
And we’ve got miles to kill
Black silhouettes against a pulsing northern sky
Hidden eyes watch, two headlights going by
I’m in control, I find my comfort at the wheel
Making good time, I tell her how I feel
I can almost hear her frown
I have tread on sacred ground
She don’t like these conversations
So we’ve got miles to kill
Owwww Owwww Owwww
She’s the pillow that I dream upon
And I’m her neighborhood
She would like someplace to belong to
As anybody would
But the roads a golden thread
Unraveling my restless head
She don’t like these conversations
So we’ve got miles to kill
Copyright Hawkins Johnston October 23 2006
Track 8. Mountains
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Metaphors are the Sherpas that carry the story for many of my tunes. Oddly in this song it is less a metaphor than a travelogue from actually climbing a mountain in Iceland. And yes, there was a treasure chest at the summit.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic and Electric Guitar), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion)
Mountains
You might not seem me fall
Plummeting from this cliff
Cartwheeling to the earth
All, broken and stiff
You didn’t want to scramble here
Which is the greater fear?
Of being left behind
Or losing, your own mind
Don’t climb the mountain
Unless you want the view
There are always mountains
Between you, you and me, Oh Oh Oh
I’d never find the treasure
If I didn’t find the top
The voice of reason telling me
It’s no shame to stop
No treason in separate ways
To seize these golden days
No threat of uncrossed lines
See you soon, uncork the wine
Don’t climb the mountain
Unless you want the view
There are always mountains
Between you, you and me, Oh Oh Oh
Hear the twisting of the wind
Across this empty land
The sea and sky are bending
Laid out at my command
Don’t climb the mountain
Unless you want the view
There are always mountains
Between you, you and me, Oh Oh Oh
Copyright @ Hawkins Johnston July 15 2013
Track 9. My Working Song
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A slacker revenge love song. Is such a thing possible? In some relationships it may be better to let sleeping dogs lie. Don Bray’s tasteful mandolin on this one brings the perfect touch of whimsy that I was looking for to bring this one home.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Don Bray (Mandolin), James Metcalfe (Percussion), David Jones (Violin, Fiddle)
My Working Song
She don’t want to let me go
I don’t want to be let go
Do you want this thing to grow
Get your ducks all in a row
I believe when something’s good it stays good
Sweeping in like a broom
Follows me from room to room
What have you got planned today
What gets done when I’m away
I believe that all gets done when it’s done
She, told me that I got
To get a life
Beyond these four walls
Oh I’ll try
Yeah I’ll try
I I I don’t know
I I I don’t know
This Is My Working Song
Opportunity when it knocked
Followed it down the block
Be careful for what you wish
Regret can be the coldest dish
I was only waiting for my cue
She, told me that I got
To get a life
Beyond these four walls
So I did
Oh yes I did
I I I don’t know
I I I don’t know
This Is My Working Song
She, told me that I got
To get a life
Beyond these four walls
So I did
So I did
Oh yes I did
Copyright Hawkins Johnston August 23 2012
Track 10. Present
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This was an up-tempo country rocker which we slowed down. It then began better to show some of the gravitas of the narrator’s wish to lay claim to being in the moment. Surely a universal desire as time seems to pass way too quickly these days.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Electric Guitars), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion)
Present
Every night now
I sleep a little less longer
With every vigil I keep
Coffee gets a little stronger
Missing dates I recall
Sometimes later if at all
So tell me sweet thing
When we gonna get crazy?
Want to let the small things go
The gentle nagging of the undertow
I don’t want to stop
And just look back
I just want to be
Present
Through the constant and strange
Be present
You know things will change
In a blink of an eye
In a blink of an eye
In a blink of an eye
We are gone
I missed your party baby
Got a little distracted
Every day now
Another memory redacted
And for the remainder
Life doesnt get no kinder
So tell me sweet thing
When we gonna start living?
I just called to let you know
I ‘m all in, its blow for blow
I don’t want to stop
And just look back …
I just want to be
Present
Through the constant and strange
Be present
You know things will change
In a blink of an eye
In a blink of an eye
In a blink of an eye
We are gone
Gone
Gone
Gone
Copyright Hawkins Johnston December 9 2012
Track 11. Responsible
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There is probably too much water under the bridge for me to be outraged about anything the world currently throws at us. It is though dangerous to tune out discordant voices that demand our attention. We all walk the fine line between insensitivity and over reaction. Look inside not down my fellow tightrope walkers.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic and Electric guitars), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion)
Responsible
Who bought the land
Took command
Now do they own you
It wasn’t me
But I know that guy
Who saw the plan
Kicked the can
Down the road to confuse you
It wasn’t me
But I was standing by
She told me
He scolded me
I hold you responsible
I hold you responsible
Who took the cash
For their stash
Did they surprise you?
It wasn’t me
But I hoped for more
Who had your back
Then did jack
Did they betray you?
It wasn’t me
I won’t take no more
She told me
He scolded me
I hold you responsible
I hold you responsible
Who will it be
Who will it be
Who will put the sun
Back, in your blue skies
Who will it be
Who will it be
Who will put the stars
Back, in your brown eyes
I understand
That help from my hand
Might not please you
After all
I’ve been there before
Send me the text
Of the thing coming next
What can I do?
It wasn’t me
But I will be there
She told me
He scolded me
I hold you responsible
I hold you responsible
For the things
You could have done for me
I hold you responsible
I hold you responsible
Copyright Hawkins Johnston February 10 2012
Track 12. The Promise
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We are our own worst enemy. Taking ownership of our lives is sometimes hard but it is essential. Here I channel a little bit of my inner gospel singer. Doug Romanow with his Hammond A-100 organ and James Metcalfe drumming out a Texas shuffle really take us to church. Hallelujah.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Max Dyer (Cello), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ)
The Promise
I know that you’re troubled
By the things I have done
Was it the doing?
Or the way they got done
I know you’re disappointed
That I didn’t take your call
But I’m into the rising
That comes, after the fall
Don’t need excuses
To get through my day
Thank you for asking
But I’m doin’, doin’ OK
I made me a promise
So get out of my way
You know the story
You lean on your friends
No guts, no glory
Do stupid things again
It not them that’s hurting
Or messing you about
You started this fire
Now go, put the thing out
Don’t need excuses
To get through my day
Thank you for asking
But I’m doin’, doin’ OK
I made me a promise
So get out of my way
Don’t need confusion
Your guilt or your doubt
Thanks for the offer
But that’s not,
What I am about
Made me a promise
I’ll figure it out
Soar with me
Soar with me
I made me a promise
To own every day
Copyright Hawkins Johnston January 2014
Track 13. When the Hope of Forever Dies
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This is a break up song with a twist. I once broke up with a girl where I felt sorrier for their parents who had to deal with all the drama. Everything is done to a torch and twang waltz. Doug Romanow on the Mellotron gives us that vintage Patsy Kline 1960s kitchen confidential feel.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Patrick McPhail (Acoustic Upright Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion), Douglas Romanow ( Mellotron)
When The Hope of Forever Dies
What would you say to your mother now
If I walked away
What would you say to your father now
At the dimming of our day
As you pass the potatoes
Would you quietly reveal
That you are not worth having
At least that’s the way it feels
Their little darlings on the mend
You won’t break while you can bend
Tell your mother that I’m sorry
Ever man you know he tries
Tell her its only history repeating
When the hope of forever dies
How would you tell of our meeting
And those hazy delirious days
How tomorrow seemed to greet us
In a thousand subtle ways
How will you tell of our leaving
We hug ourselves against the cold
How every sentence was a tombstone
Each word chiselled out in bold
Little darling can’t pretend
It’ll work out in the end ( wo wo)
Tell your mother that I’m sorry
Ever man you know he tries
Tell her its only history repeating
When the hope of forever dies
Copyright Hawkins Johnston April 30 2014
Track 14. In the Meantime
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While we all strive for our dreams and ambitions, we need to cherish the people along the way. Life is one big meantime. This tune gave me a chance to play my old Yamaha hollow body electric jazz guitar all framed nicely by Dave’s beautifully fluid violin passages.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Electric Guitar), David Jones (Violin), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion)
In the Mean Time
How to get from A to B
24/7 it’s the economy
One more call will not break your back
Stay in play, and watch your tack
You never hear the breath I sigh
Or look up to catch my eye
Hunkered down get it done today
Some new devil you got to pay
In the mean time
While you’re waiting for your ship to come in
In the mean time
When you’re waiting for your ticket to win
In the mean time
When you’re waiting for your life to begin
In the mean time
Can you be with me?
Say one day it all went away
The air was still on that fateful day
No planes to catch to god knows where
No wondering who was waiting there
Would you see the hills you’ve climbed?
And be thankful for truths divined
The people loved but left behind
And believe that fate was kind
In the mean time
While you’re waiting for your ship to come in
In the mean time
When you’re waiting for your ticket to win
In the mean time
When you’re waiting for your life to begin
In the mean time
Can you be with me?
Can you be
Can you be
Can you be with me?
Copyright Hawkins Johnston December 6 2014
Track 15. Letter from the Coast
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It is probably disingenuous to deliver a pep talk about surviving winter from the warmth of a beach outside of Squamish, British Columbia. But you have to like the Latin in the chorus. “Ex duris Gloria” meaning “from suffering arises glory”.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitars), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Max Dyer (Pizzicato cello, Cello)
Letter from the Coast ( Ex Duris Gloria*)
Don’t give up the ghost
For winter is not kind to quitters
Thawing out on the left coast
With the hippies, the geeks and heavy hitters
Don’t give up the ghost
Strangled by multiple sweaters
I’m warm as French toast
Exiled with the rest of the cheaters
February magnolia
Non ex duris Gloria
Sylvan ambrosia
I’m an oyster opening on the shore
Don’t give up the ghost
The phantom limb of springtime
Don’t cry in the pot roast
Trapped in the house killing time
Don’t give up the ghost
For winter is not kind to quitters
Thawing out on the left coast
With the hippies, the geeks and heavy hitters
February magnolia
Non ex duris Gloria
Sylvan ambrosia
I’m an oyster shucked on the shore
* Translation: from suffering arises glory Copyright Hawkins Johnston March 3 2015
Track 16. The Edge of Dawn
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Written during the recording of the rest of the album as the last song for the album, it came to me looking out the window at Ray’s studio on a freshly ploughed field being prepared for winter. I am joined by my friends from the Lyrica Choir Alison Bell, Vince Filo-Carroll, Meagan Simpson and Kenny Parry to provided the Greek chorus to my characters. A reverence for the inevitability of the passage of the seasons should give people pause to take stock of their loves, losses and strength for the future.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Electric Guitar), Patrick McPhail (Bass), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ)
Alison Bell, Vince Filo-Carroll, Meagan Simpson and Kenny Parry (Backing Vocals)
Special thanks to Julie Jacklein who arranged the initial chorale parts on this song. This was all very experimental on my part so Ray, Julie and our four singers have my gratitude for humoring my artistic pretensions on this one and making it all come together.
At The Edge of Dawn
At the edge of dawn
When the harvest is done
The ground is bare
Awaits new sun
Your work was good
Have you taken your share?
Have you kept to your creed?
To do with care
At the edge of dawn
Let hope endure
The seasons moved on
For the man that you were
Adrift in spirit
Wintering like crows
Restless and circling
To see what spring sows
Content with still breathing
There’s frost in the air
Too set, for leaving
Too, rooted here
Rise to glory
Don’t bend a knee
To the worst of your demons
Be the man you can be
At the edge of dawn
When the night goes to ground
Shadows hide in furrows
When the new day is crowned
Regret is to truth
Like chaff is to wheat
The good in us all
Will fall at your feet
At the edge of dawn
I’ll be your morning star
Cast new light upon
The man that you are
Copyright Hawkins Johnston October 19 2015
Track 1. Autumn Highway
I always knew this would be the first song that would set the tone of the album. This is also the oldest song on the album (first version written in 2006). Some seeds take a long time to germinate. Dave Jone’s violin sweeps through the piece like a wind through a late fall forest. Lovely upright bass by Patrick McPhail and creative percussion from Ray. And we’re off !
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Ray Dillard (Percussion), David Jones (Violin), Patrick McPhail (Upright Bass)
LyricsAutumn Highway
The mystery painter draws his brush
Across the branches of the trees
He doesn’t gloat nor does he blush
Like Toulouse-Lautrec at a strip tease
Red into gold, they fall gently with hardly a sound
Turning and tumbling they crumble
Upon the cold ground
Shadows lengthen cross the road
The sun is strobing out in code
Make haste on roads in good repair
Before they’re left in winter’s care
No one can take us,
We drive ourselves where we must go
Sooner or later, I think maybe later, we know
This might not be our road
But it is the one were on
The road it veers west
We’ve lost the map
We argue about where we’re going
Give it a rest
But we can’t stop
This might not be our road
But it is the one were on
Shadows lengthen, as we travel
Shadows lengthen, as we unravel
Our destination’s clues
This might not be our road
But it’s the one were on
Copyright Hawkins Johnston, April 18, 2004
Track 2. Continental Drift
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This song came to me watching a large Latino family seeing their daughter off at a boarding gate at Los Angeles airport. I was passing through from Hawaii where I had for some inexplicable reason bought a ukulele. As is my custom with a new instrument, I wanted to make it mine by writing a song on it.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Ukulele), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Max Dyer ( Pizzicato Cello and Cello)
Continental Drift
Jeans in tatters
A pack with what matters
A cell phone to call home
A book for the plane
We live in perfection
Our love your protection
Why would you leave
All this behind
Everybody is letting go
Widen the cracks, and let the wild seeds grow
Wait for the static, from a distant shore
Even the rocks below, continue to flow
And continents drift
It’s her direction
Not our selection
Pressure building
Then comes today
She might call this Sunday
She’s not a runaway
We let her slip from our arms
Down that long jet-a-way.
Everybody is letting go
Widen the cracks, and let the wild seeds grow
Wait for the static, from a distant shore
Even the rocks below, continue to flow
And continents drift
Watch the contrails, break up in the sky
Felt our world shift, with that kiss good bye
Everybody is letting go
Widen the cracks, and let the wild seeds grow
Wait for the static, from a distant shore
Even the rocks below, continue to flow
And continents drift
La La La La La La La La La
Copyright Hawkins Johnston, February 3 2006
Track 3: I’m Sold
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This is a love song about finding the peace from acknowledging the strength and space lent by another person which allows you to grow into your own skin. I often dedicate this to my wife when in concert. I think she likes it.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Max Dyer (Bass, Cello)
I’m Sold
Born of a woman
So you’d think I would have got it right
From the first time that I met her
But some things are learned
Like being led to the perfect light
Of the reasons to believe in her
Where ever you are
That’s where I’m heading for
Whatever I say
You’re already there
Whatever I do
You’re way in front of me
I’m a follower
Cause I’m Sold
I was confused
By sweet dreams turned into hard regrets
But somehow we kept talking
Funny the way
You end up right back where you started from
When you pick yourself up and keep walking
Where ever you are
That’s where I’m heading for
Whatever I say
You’re already there
Whatever I do
You’re way in front of me
I’m a follower
Cause I’m Sold
Where ever you are
That’s where I’m heading for
Whatever I say
You’re already there
Whatever I do
You’re way in front of me
I’m a follower
Cause I’m Sold
Copyright Hawkins Johnston January 16, 2012
Track 4. Wishbone
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We struggled with whether this country zydeco inflect romp of a song was going to work. Fortunately, persistence and some great playing won the day. Here we have everyone playing a little out of their comfort zone. This is confirmation of the maxim that the more fun you have with a song the better it sounds. Ayeee cher !
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitars), David Jones (Fiddle), Patrick McPhail (Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion), Douglas Romanow ( Accordion)
Alison Bell, Vince Filo-Carroll, Meagan Simpson and Kenny Parry (Backing Vocals)
Wishbone
Way back, in a simpler day
My mother, said there is a way
To make hard decisions play
A wishbone, never throw it away
Hold tight, pull and fight
One hand is holding on to the truth
Wishbone, one side winning
Wishbone , one side losing
Ohhh, How I struggle for my soul
Wishbone one side dreaming
Wishbone one side needing
Ohhh How I struggle for control
But wishbone how I want you whole
Fences, I’ve been sitting on
Wonder’in, how I’m going to get
Go’in , making my own way
Trenches, I’ve been digging deeper
Steeper, with every passing day
Hold tight, pull and fight
Which hand is holding on to the truth?
Wishbone, dry and brittle
Wishbone, breaks down the middle
Do I shrug and stay the same
Which fate, is appealing
That friend, I’m not revealing
It’s all part of the game
But Wishbone how I want you whole
Chicken, who is calling who
Chicken, who is doing the
Pick’n, of the best way to go
Hold tight, pull and fight
Wishbone tell me what you know
Wishbone tell me what you know
Copyright Hawkins Johnston March 31 2015
Track 5. Lonely Girl
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This modern urban vignette takes place on the University subway line in Toronto. I observed my two characters and imagined the deeper story as the interior reflections and sudden bursts of exterior scenery and sunlight strobed across the subway car.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, acoustic guitar), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Electric Bass), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ)
Lonely Girl
So you think you’re the only one
Is that what you really fear
A fetal ball curled round your mobile phone
Someone whisperin’ in your ear
What do you see
I’m a ghost in the scenery
I’d like to be
Someone you would like to get to know
All I’m looking for
Is a lonely girl
With furrowed brow
And your head bent low
How many of those friends
Do you really know?
Where’s the space for our love to grow
So I’ll have to let you go
I can’t compete
With your persistent little friend
Are you so complete?
That I can’t find a way to get to you
All I’m looking for
Is a lonely girl
The more we know
The less we feel
You know what I’m looking for
All I’m looking for is a lonely girl
Copyright Hawkins Johnston March 30 2013
Track 6. Maybe ( I Can Still Write You A Love Song)
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Sometimes amongst all the shadows and shadings you need a little shimmer. No need to put the songwriter on a couch for this one. A sincere pure pop confession of affection.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Patrick McPhail (Bass), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ, Mellotron)
Maybe (I Can Still Write You A Love Song)
You say I must have lost that muscle
The one I had when we were young
That was when love was a desperate hustle
Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I
Can still write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
I can still write all the librettos
For all the silly show tunes that you inspire
When I see you in a black dress and stilettos
Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I
Can still write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Tongue in cheek
Makes it hard to speak
My dominate
Is a little weak
My strumming hand
Is my five piece band
Each note is strong
But not too bland
You know I like me when you are happy
And, you are happy almost every day
A simple truth, no need to get sappy
Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I
Can still write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Write you a love song
Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I, Maybe I
Can still write you a love song
Copyright Hawkins Johnston November 9 2013
Track 7. Miles to Kill
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I have always thought that one of the most intimate of spaces is the interior of a darkened car on an empty highway at midnight. Thoughts slip from mind to mouth massaged by the lullaby hum of tire on pavement and the trance induced by the yellow line undulating like a cobra outside your windshield. When I first heard the mix of this song, Max Dyer’s cellos broke me open like a baseball bat taken to a piñata.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, All Guitars, Ukulele), Don Bray (Mandolin), Ray Dillard (Percussion), Max Dyer (Bass, Cello), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ, Mellotron and Accordion)
Miles To Kill
The darkest place travels between us
Somewhere out here, on Highway Seventeen
The radio died once we passed Sault Ste Marie
The silence familiar as any place we’ve been
And the roads a golden thread
Unraveling my restless head
I have all these ruminations
And we’ve got miles to kill
Black silhouettes against a pulsing northern sky
Hidden eyes watch, two headlights going by
I’m in control, I find my comfort at the wheel
Making good time, I tell her how I feel
I can almost hear her frown
I have tread on sacred ground
She don’t like these conversations
So we’ve got miles to kill
Owwww Owwww Owwww
She’s the pillow that I dream upon
And I’m her neighborhood
She would like someplace to belong to
As anybody would
But the roads a golden thread
Unraveling my restless head
She don’t like these conversations
So we’ve got miles to kill
Copyright Hawkins Johnston October 23 2006
Track 8. Mountains
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Metaphors are the Sherpas that carry the story for many of my tunes. Oddly in this song it is less a metaphor than a travelogue from actually climbing a mountain in Iceland. And yes, there was a treasure chest at the summit.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic and Electric Guitar), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion)
Mountains
You might not seem me fall
Plummeting from this cliff
Cartwheeling to the earth
All, broken and stiff
You didn’t want to scramble here
Which is the greater fear?
Of being left behind
Or losing, your own mind
Don’t climb the mountain
Unless you want the view
There are always mountains
Between you, you and me, Oh Oh Oh
I’d never find the treasure
If I didn’t find the top
The voice of reason telling me
It’s no shame to stop
No treason in separate ways
To seize these golden days
No threat of uncrossed lines
See you soon, uncork the wine
Don’t climb the mountain
Unless you want the view
There are always mountains
Between you, you and me, Oh Oh Oh
Hear the twisting of the wind
Across this empty land
The sea and sky are bending
Laid out at my command
Don’t climb the mountain
Unless you want the view
There are always mountains
Between you, you and me, Oh Oh Oh
Copyright @ Hawkins Johnston July 15 2013
Track 9. My Working Song
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A slacker revenge love song. Is such a thing possible? In some relationships it may be better to let sleeping dogs lie. Don Bray’s tasteful mandolin on this one brings the perfect touch of whimsy that I was looking for to bring this one home.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Don Bray (Mandolin), James Metcalfe (Percussion), David Jones (Violin, Fiddle)
My Working Song
She don’t want to let me go
I don’t want to be let go
Do you want this thing to grow
Get your ducks all in a row
I believe when something’s good it stays good
Sweeping in like a broom
Follows me from room to room
What have you got planned today
What gets done when I’m away
I believe that all gets done when it’s done
She, told me that I got
To get a life
Beyond these four walls
Oh I’ll try
Yeah I’ll try
I I I don’t know
I I I don’t know
This Is My Working Song
Opportunity when it knocked
Followed it down the block
Be careful for what you wish
Regret can be the coldest dish
I was only waiting for my cue
She, told me that I got
To get a life
Beyond these four walls
So I did
Oh yes I did
I I I don’t know
I I I don’t know
This Is My Working Song
She, told me that I got
To get a life
Beyond these four walls
So I did
So I did
Oh yes I did
Copyright Hawkins Johnston August 23 2012
Track 10. Present
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This was an up-tempo country rocker which we slowed down. It then began better to show some of the gravitas of the narrator’s wish to lay claim to being in the moment. Surely a universal desire as time seems to pass way too quickly these days.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Electric Guitars), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion)
Present
Every night now
I sleep a little less longer
With every vigil I keep
Coffee gets a little stronger
Missing dates I recall
Sometimes later if at all
So tell me sweet thing
When we gonna get crazy?
Want to let the small things go
The gentle nagging of the undertow
I don’t want to stop
And just look back
I just want to be
Present
Through the constant and strange
Be present
You know things will change
In a blink of an eye
In a blink of an eye
In a blink of an eye
We are gone
I missed your party baby
Got a little distracted
Every day now
Another memory redacted
And for the remainder
Life doesnt get no kinder
So tell me sweet thing
When we gonna start living?
I just called to let you know
I ‘m all in, its blow for blow
I don’t want to stop
And just look back …
I just want to be
Present
Through the constant and strange
Be present
You know things will change
In a blink of an eye
In a blink of an eye
In a blink of an eye
We are gone
Gone
Gone
Gone
Copyright Hawkins Johnston December 9 2012
Track 11. Responsible
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There is probably too much water under the bridge for me to be outraged about anything the world currently throws at us. It is though dangerous to tune out discordant voices that demand our attention. We all walk the fine line between insensitivity and over reaction. Look inside not down my fellow tightrope walkers.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic and Electric guitars), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion)
Responsible
Who bought the land
Took command
Now do they own you
It wasn’t me
But I know that guy
Who saw the plan
Kicked the can
Down the road to confuse you
It wasn’t me
But I was standing by
She told me
He scolded me
I hold you responsible
I hold you responsible
Who took the cash
For their stash
Did they surprise you?
It wasn’t me
But I hoped for more
Who had your back
Then did jack
Did they betray you?
It wasn’t me
I won’t take no more
She told me
He scolded me
I hold you responsible
I hold you responsible
Who will it be
Who will it be
Who will put the sun
Back, in your blue skies
Who will it be
Who will it be
Who will put the stars
Back, in your brown eyes
I understand
That help from my hand
Might not please you
After all
I’ve been there before
Send me the text
Of the thing coming next
What can I do?
It wasn’t me
But I will be there
She told me
He scolded me
I hold you responsible
I hold you responsible
For the things
You could have done for me
I hold you responsible
I hold you responsible
Copyright Hawkins Johnston February 10 2012
Track 12. The Promise
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We are our own worst enemy. Taking ownership of our lives is sometimes hard but it is essential. Here I channel a little bit of my inner gospel singer. Doug Romanow with his Hammond A-100 organ and James Metcalfe drumming out a Texas shuffle really take us to church. Hallelujah.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Max Dyer (Cello), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ)
The Promise
I know that you’re troubled
By the things I have done
Was it the doing?
Or the way they got done
I know you’re disappointed
That I didn’t take your call
But I’m into the rising
That comes, after the fall
Don’t need excuses
To get through my day
Thank you for asking
But I’m doin’, doin’ OK
I made me a promise
So get out of my way
You know the story
You lean on your friends
No guts, no glory
Do stupid things again
It not them that’s hurting
Or messing you about
You started this fire
Now go, put the thing out
Don’t need excuses
To get through my day
Thank you for asking
But I’m doin’, doin’ OK
I made me a promise
So get out of my way
Don’t need confusion
Your guilt or your doubt
Thanks for the offer
But that’s not,
What I am about
Made me a promise
I’ll figure it out
Soar with me
Soar with me
I made me a promise
To own every day
Copyright Hawkins Johnston January 2014
Track 13. When the Hope of Forever Dies
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This is a break up song with a twist. I once broke up with a girl where I felt sorrier for their parents who had to deal with all the drama. Everything is done to a torch and twang waltz. Doug Romanow on the Mellotron gives us that vintage Patsy Kline 1960s kitchen confidential feel.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitar), Patrick McPhail (Acoustic Upright Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion), Douglas Romanow ( Mellotron)
When The Hope of Forever Dies
What would you say to your mother now
If I walked away
What would you say to your father now
At the dimming of our day
As you pass the potatoes
Would you quietly reveal
That you are not worth having
At least that’s the way it feels
Their little darlings on the mend
You won’t break while you can bend
Tell your mother that I’m sorry
Ever man you know he tries
Tell her its only history repeating
When the hope of forever dies
How would you tell of our meeting
And those hazy delirious days
How tomorrow seemed to greet us
In a thousand subtle ways
How will you tell of our leaving
We hug ourselves against the cold
How every sentence was a tombstone
Each word chiselled out in bold
Little darling can’t pretend
It’ll work out in the end ( wo wo)
Tell your mother that I’m sorry
Ever man you know he tries
Tell her its only history repeating
When the hope of forever dies
Copyright Hawkins Johnston April 30 2014
Track 14. In the Meantime
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While we all strive for our dreams and ambitions, we need to cherish the people along the way. Life is one big meantime. This tune gave me a chance to play my old Yamaha hollow body electric jazz guitar all framed nicely by Dave’s beautifully fluid violin passages.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Electric Guitar), David Jones (Violin), Patrick McPhail (Fretless Bass), James Metcalfe (Drums, Percussion)
In the Mean Time
How to get from A to B
24/7 it’s the economy
One more call will not break your back
Stay in play, and watch your tack
You never hear the breath I sigh
Or look up to catch my eye
Hunkered down get it done today
Some new devil you got to pay
In the mean time
While you’re waiting for your ship to come in
In the mean time
When you’re waiting for your ticket to win
In the mean time
When you’re waiting for your life to begin
In the mean time
Can you be with me?
Say one day it all went away
The air was still on that fateful day
No planes to catch to god knows where
No wondering who was waiting there
Would you see the hills you’ve climbed?
And be thankful for truths divined
The people loved but left behind
And believe that fate was kind
In the mean time
While you’re waiting for your ship to come in
In the mean time
When you’re waiting for your ticket to win
In the mean time
When you’re waiting for your life to begin
In the mean time
Can you be with me?
Can you be
Can you be
Can you be with me?
Copyright Hawkins Johnston December 6 2014
Track 15. Letter from the Coast
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It is probably disingenuous to deliver a pep talk about surviving winter from the warmth of a beach outside of Squamish, British Columbia. But you have to like the Latin in the chorus. “Ex duris Gloria” meaning “from suffering arises glory”.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Acoustic Guitars), James Metcalfe (Percussion), Max Dyer (Pizzicato cello, Cello)
Letter from the Coast ( Ex Duris Gloria*)
Don’t give up the ghost
For winter is not kind to quitters
Thawing out on the left coast
With the hippies, the geeks and heavy hitters
Don’t give up the ghost
Strangled by multiple sweaters
I’m warm as French toast
Exiled with the rest of the cheaters
February magnolia
Non ex duris Gloria
Sylvan ambrosia
I’m an oyster opening on the shore
Don’t give up the ghost
The phantom limb of springtime
Don’t cry in the pot roast
Trapped in the house killing time
Don’t give up the ghost
For winter is not kind to quitters
Thawing out on the left coast
With the hippies, the geeks and heavy hitters
February magnolia
Non ex duris Gloria
Sylvan ambrosia
I’m an oyster shucked on the shore
* Translation: from suffering arises glory Copyright Hawkins Johnston March 3 2015
Track 16. The Edge of Dawn
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Written during the recording of the rest of the album as the last song for the album, it came to me looking out the window at Ray’s studio on a freshly ploughed field being prepared for winter. I am joined by my friends from the Lyrica Choir Alison Bell, Vince Filo-Carroll, Meagan Simpson and Kenny Parry to provided the Greek chorus to my characters. A reverence for the inevitability of the passage of the seasons should give people pause to take stock of their loves, losses and strength for the future.
Hawkins Johnston (Vocals, Electric Guitar), Patrick McPhail (Bass), Douglas Romanow (Hammond A-100 Organ)
Alison Bell, Vince Filo-Carroll, Meagan Simpson and Kenny Parry (Backing Vocals)
Special thanks to Julie Jacklein who arranged the initial chorale parts on this song. This was all very experimental on my part so Ray, Julie and our four singers have my gratitude for humoring my artistic pretensions on this one and making it all come together.
At The Edge of Dawn
At the edge of dawn
When the harvest is done
The ground is bare
Awaits new sun
Your work was good
Have you taken your share?
Have you kept to your creed?
To do with care
At the edge of dawn
Let hope endure
The seasons moved on
For the man that you were
Adrift in spirit
Wintering like crows
Restless and circling
To see what spring sows
Content with still breathing
There’s frost in the air
Too set, for leaving
Too, rooted here
Rise to glory
Don’t bend a knee
To the worst of your demons
Be the man you can be
At the edge of dawn
When the night goes to ground
Shadows hide in furrows
When the new day is crowned
Regret is to truth
Like chaff is to wheat
The good in us all
Will fall at your feet
At the edge of dawn
I’ll be your morning star
Cast new light upon
The man that you are
Copyright Hawkins Johnston October 19 2015