Your Carrie

Cara Schauble   c   2016

I used to watch you in your woodshop sweeping dust.

When I would cry you’d tell me sweetly “dear, don’t fuss.”

We spent the summers dancing ‘round the living room right off the shore.

 

You wore that smile on you everywhere you’d go.

Behind your glasses hid your eyes, where wisdom showed.

Your ukulele rang a sound that filled my ears with lullabies.

 

But I can’t say ‘goodbye’,

so know this for me;

that I’ll always be

your Carrie.

 

I hoped that one day you would watch me stand in white;

you’d take my hand and spin me under the dance floor lights,

as you did at our log cabin on my mother’s wedding day.

 

But I can’t say ‘goodbye’,

so know this for me;

that I’ll always be

your Carrie.

 

And I’m sorry

that I couldn’t be

there like you were for me.

But just in knowing you

and wondering what you’d do,

I hope I’m half as good as you.

 

Wish I could watch you in your woodshop sweeping dust.

Wish you would walk up to my door and say “don’t you fuss.”

Just one more dance around that living room in the house right by the shore.

 

'Cause I can’t say ‘goodbye’,

so know this for me;

that I’ll always be

your Carrie.

- in loving memory of Stuart L Dance -

Chains

Cara Schauble   c   2016

Cross your fingers; jump on in.

This life will make a splash every now and then.

 

We’re not the calm before the storm;

we’re the hooves; we’re the horns,

so take a bow.

 

They’re on the outside, lookin’ down.

The whole world don’t have to hear your voice,

but ya have to make a sound.

 

It’s 'not a problem', we know.

But that was a long time ago.

Now it’s time to break out

 

of the chains

that bind you.

They confine you

to your ways.

You don’t have to;

this is not you.

 

Your head is cloudy, your hands unsure.

You just wanted answers, looking for nothing more.

 

You wanted sane, you wanted clear,

but that’s not what you’ve got here.

Medicine is not your answer;

don’t let this waste your tears.

 

Stop trying to walk away from us;

we’re here from birth until dust.

You can’t lose our love.

You can’t lose our trust.

It’s 'not a problem', we know.

But that was a long time ago.

Now it’s time to break out

 

of the chains

that bind you.

They confine you

to your ways.

You don’t have to;

this is not you.

 

You think chains can’t be broken here,

but look a little closer, dear.

They’re only held together

by your fears.

 

It’s 'not a problem', we know.

But that was a long time ago.

Now it’s time to break out

 

of the chains

that bind you.

They confine you

to your ways.

You don’t have to;

this is not you.

You may say

you can’t do this,

but that’s what hope is.

So today

start defending

your happy ending.

Our Lullaby

Cara Schauble   c   2016

You saw my worst and you loved me the same;

when I was at fault said 'there’s no one to blame'.

You’d wipe my tears and not let me feel shame,

but in the blink of an eye it all looks like a game.

So it’s hard to accept, through all the pain,

that years down the road you’ll just be a name.

 

For better or worse, that’s what I believed,

but you drove the hearse for the heart on my sleeve.

You were my favorite verse, it was easy to breathe,

but I couldn’t hear it was always off key.

 

Our stories been told; it’s been heard far too long.

All that’s left to do is finish writing this song.

I owe you a ‘thank you’ for making me this strong.

It took us three years to find out we were wrong,

but now we are both right where we belong.

 

For better or worse, that’s what I believed,

but you drove the hearse for the heart on my sleeve.

You were my favorite verse, it was easy to breathe,

but I couldn’t hear it was always off key.

It’s easy to think we were both too naïve,

but it feels good to say that we’re finally free.

It feels good to say that we’re finally free.

Michelle Drive

Cara Schauble   c   2016

All the times we said we’d lose our heads,

all the days we wouldn’t leave our beds,

all the words we never left unsaid,

we’ll forever be more than just three friends.

 

So many long nights out on the town.

So many times you didn’t let me down.

No real goodbyes, well until now.

We’ll always find our way back somehow.

 

'Cause we are

 

fourteen hours driving South down a road.

We’re too many cups of coffee and red solos.

We’re the real life scene behind the curtain of a show.

We are

a little house a few blocks from the shoreline,

the only ones who know when I’m not really fine,

like the first time seeing colors if I had spend my whole life blind.

 

One day we’ll look back and we’ll laugh.

Someday it’ll be part of our past

when we thought ‘goodbye’ was a binding spell cast,

sitting in rocking chairs after fifty years have past.

 

'Cause we are

 

fourteen hours driving South down a road.

We’re too many cups of coffee and red solos.

We’re the real life scene behind the curtain of a show.

We are

a little house a few blocks from the shoreline,

the only ones who know when I’m not really fine,

like the first time seeing colors if I had spend my whole life blind.

 

All we know,

don’t let go.

All we know,

we won’t let go.

We don’t let go.

 

'Cause we are

 

fourteen hours driving South down a road.

We’re too many cups of coffee and red solos.

We’re the real life scene behind the curtain of a show.

We are

a little house a few blocks from the shoreline,

the only ones who know when I’m not really fine,

like the first time seeing colors if I had spend my whole life blind.

 

All the times we said we’d lose our heads,

all the words we never left unsaid,

we’ll forever be more than just three friends.

- to Morgan and Rachael - 

Childhood Souls

Cara Schauble   c   2016

Up in the attic of my childhood home,

a house that keeps hidden what no one knows.

Up in the attic with that little window

you can see all the kids playin’ on the road;

all but one,

she’s up here alone.

 

Out in the woods behind my childhood home

we played cops n’ robbers ‘til the old moon glowed.

Back by the pond down that old dirt road

where Dad told us stories ‘bout long ago.

We’d wanna be like him

when we were grown.

 

We plant a seed;

we watch it grow.

We wanna be

that big and tall.

That little girl

from years ago,

she held onto

her childhood soul.

 

We couldn’t plan the things that life would hold,

from heartbreaks and headaches to growing old.

Above all the things we wish we didn’t know,

I become reassured the more our lives unfold:

I value you

both more than gold.

 

We plant a seed;

we watch it grow.

We wanna be

that big and tall.

Those little boys

from years ago,

they held onto

their childhood souls.

 

Up in the attic on my own,

sometimes it’s good to be alone.

Where we’d be now I wouldn’t know.

Let imagination take control.

Your imagination takes control.

 

We’ll plant a seed;

we’ll watch them grow.

They’ll wanna be

so big and tall.

We were just kids

not long ago,

but we held onto

our childhood souls.

We owe who raised us all we know.

Thank you for giving us our childhood souls.

- to my brothers -

Where the Sidewalk Ends

Cara Schauble   c   2016

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

I’ll be gone before sunrise.

Got my wallet in my pocket, I got time on my side,

so I don’t need no alibi.

 

I’m leavin’ Sunset Avenue.

One day you’ll see me on the news.

You got your blue swede shoes and an offer that I can’t refuse,

but I’ll take my chances on the move.

 

I left town goin’ westbound just as far as I can,

or at least until the sidewalk ends.

 

I made it down to New Orleans

runnin’ on fuel and caffeine.

I’m writin’ you this letter as the new Miss Jolene,

so don't ya worry about me.

 

I left town goin’ westbound just as far as I can.

or at least until the sidewalk ends.

With twelve bucks in my pocket and a six string in my hands,

oh I’ll make a fool outta this man.

 

Home again,

to go home again,

every now and then.

But I don’t need a home, don’t need a friend.

 

Home again,

to go home again,

every now and then.

But I don’t need a home, don’t need a friend.

 

No matter how far you roam,

if you ever see me on the road:

My last advice is this, the only thing you need to know,

Mmm you’re gonna reap what you sew.

 

I left town goin’ westbound just as far as I can.

or at least until the sidewalk ends.

With twelve bucks in my pocket and a six string in my hands,

oh I’ll make a fool outta this man.

No House of Mine

Cara Schauble   c   2016

Pictures left on the ground,

T-shirts strung about,

this room is no house of mine.

 

Fingerprints you left behind

poisoned memories of mine.

You’d be the one to run and hide.

Oh this room is no house of mine.

 

Just look at the mess you made,

you think this scene will fade.

Is that you hiding in the shade.

Oh just run away.

 

If karma doesn’t catch you,

you bet your ass we will.

Just when you think your safe

we’ll go in for the kill.

Oh you think you’ve won,

ya think you’ve shown us all your skill.

Ya know I can’t relate to wreckage for a thrill.

 

So run, run as fast as ya can.

I can’t catch you, you’re a cowardly man.

You made this room no house of mine.

 

Like a dog without bone,

but you’re lookin’ in another’s home,

pretending my things are your own.

Oh this room is no house of mine.

 

If karma doesn’t catch you,

you bet your ass we will.

Just when you think your safe

we’ll go in for the kill.

Oh you think you’ve won,

ya think you’ve shown us all your skill.

Ya know I can’t relate to wreckage for a thrill.

 

Just run and hide.

Poisoned memories of mine.

All the things you left behind;

this room is no house of mine.

 

If karma doesn’t catch you,

you bet your ass we will.

Just when you think your safe

we’ll go in for the kill.

Oh you think you’ve won,

ya think you’ve shown us all your skill.

Ya know I can’t relate to wreckage for a thrill.

 

Pictures left on the ground,

T-shirts strung about,

this room is no house of mine.

Oh this room is no house of mine.

Devil's Run

Cara Schauble   c   2016

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run.

 

The Devil on your shoulder

won’t tell you it’s over;

he’ll tell you there’s more to be done.

 

Don’t make him a promise;

he’ll know if you’re honest.

He’ll know if you’ve lied to someone.

 

Spend a day in his shoes;

ask if this is like you,

then do what you need to do, son.

 

Just when you feel his stare,

you’ll turn and he’s not there.

Baby, you can’t outrun his gun.

 

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run.

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run.

 

He’ll tell ya you’re wrong,

wouldn’t dare let you feel strong.

He’ll take the light out of your sun.

 

He’ll take you and mold you.

Listen what I told you:

better march to your own beating drum.

 

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run.

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run.

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run.

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run.

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run.

 

Run the Devil’s run.

You can run the Devil’s run,

but I’m trying to escape from running the Devil’s run.

I march to the beat of my own drum;

I won’t run the Devil’s run.

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