JUNE 2022



This double album was written and recorded over the course of two years during the covid pandemic. All songs were written, performed, arranged, and produced by Riverman in his home studio in Orlando, FL.

Mixed and Mastered at Pulp Arts in Gainesville, FL.

Track Listing / Lyrics

1. The Year of Our Lord

In the beginning there was God,
It was God or it was something…
Or maybe there was nothing at all…
It’s hard to believe
But maybe part of it is real
Let’s assume, there’s a God but not The Fall…

A voice out there in somewhere
Confident, sincere
Echoed in the darkness
Loud enough for all to hear
Loud and clear-
“It’s the year of our Lord!”

Then something sprang from nothing
It was summoned from the void
A universe was spoken into life…
An unmoved mover –
Inspiration running wild,
Breathed, then turned on the light..

While everything was flowing
It called forth the human race
It shared with us consciousness
Accompanied by grace
And we appeared…
It was the year of our Lord…

But this God isn’t perfect
Yeah, It’s learning as it goes…
Expectations are high, heaven knows…
Power without limits
Doesn’t mean it’s always good,
But this God is trying, and it shows…

In suffering there’s progress
Though that can be hard to hear
The DNA of creation
Is in each and every tear
When every year is the year of our Lord…

A God of understanding
Yeah, I think this God is woke
And it hopes we learn to wake ourselves
A God who values blackness
A God who loves what’s queer
A God whose love overwhelms…
Some pray to God the woman
Some pray to God the man
But God is more complex than we can ever understand
It will be clear
In the year of our Lord…

In the year our Lord,
We’ll find out that where we’re going
There’s no pearly gates but just an open door…
In the year of our Lord
The choir’s always growing
And we’ll join in and sing forevermore…

Everyone you know
And those you haven’t met
That history remembers or that history forgets
Will all be here…
In the year of our Lord…

In the year of our lord
I think we’ll all want for nothing
Everyone may stay young instead of old
No economy in heaven
Nothing’s made of gold
I think that’s a story we’ve been told…

But galaxies are flowing
To a distant point in space
Maybe the unmoved mover is residing in that place
We’re drawing near
To the year of our Lord…

In the beginning there was God
It was God or it was something…
At the end there will be God or something still…
The whole of creation
This violent, holy place
Maybe it’s all bending to some will…

Now I’m no expert, and on that we can agree
But I’m a part of you, you know, and you’re a part of me
So have no fear,
We’re in the year of our Lord

2. Population One

I’ll stay as long as I can
This town is a ghost land
Everybody moved away
And I just stayed behind

I claimed their tasks – one by one
Every job still needs getting done
And I do them not just to pass the time…

At the general store, there’s everything that I need
I buy and sell myself my groceries
Then balance the till

I hired myself, the job is mundane
But I pay myself a living wage
With plenty of overtime to fill…

This town has it all
Like Rome after the fall
Keep on
Keep on
The opposite of urban sprawl

At the barber shop I cut my own hair
Clean my teeth in the dentist’s chair
I’ve got keys to everywhere

I wear a white coat and my stethoscope
When I tell myself I’m getting sick
I make sure my insurance covers it…

I’m a learned man, I teach myself in the school
My syllabus is almost always full
No easy A’s

I sing in the choir, and I preach to the pews
But the Bible’s only seldom used
No fire and brimstone left these days…

This all resembles culture
A facsimile of life
Move on
Move on
Staving off that slow demise

I walk the beat, but I’m always unarmed
There’s no crime I’ve committed so far
No quid pro quo

But I’d lawyer up and present my own case
A judge and jury with one same face
I hope my innocence would show…

I lay on the couch when I’m feeling unsure
For a dose of the talking cure
It’s not funny, it works…

Play chess with myself, sometimes I let myself win
The witty banter’s really wearing thin…
I’m miss people so much it hurts…

My small town kind of living
Smallest town under the sun
So alone
In my home
And it’s population one…

I’ll stay as long as I can
In this skeletal ghost land
Everybody moved away
And I just stayed behind

There’s one job I could never do
An undertaker and a body too-
To save some one else’s precious time…

I’ll build myself coffin
Someday I’ll climb right in
When the time is right
When the time is right
In the neighborly tradition

This town has got it all
Like Rome after the fall
My town
This sacred ground
It’s future population none…

3. The Next Best Thing

I saw you through the window
Thought I’d lost my mind
I motioned you outside

I wrapped my arms around you
And I cried and cried
And then you dried my eye

I knew you shouldn’t be here
Yet there you stood
In the same old clothes
But you were looking good

You said you’d only been away a little while
And I could only smile

It’s not the same
As really happening…
It’s not the same thing…

The weather started turning
As the moon went higher
So we lit a fire

I asked you every question
There beside the pyre
It was all that I desired

I don’t recall the answers
That you gave to me
But I recall your voice
And your company

I paid close attention as everything dissolved…
And your name I called…

It’s not the same
As really happening
But a dream is the next best thing…

I know it was a voyage
I’m glad you left your post
My mind’s a gracious host

One minute you’re a human
and the next a ghost
The thing I fear the most…

The “you” is always changing here inside my songs
But I know who you are
And I know where you belong

I feel your presence everywhere
And the space between
Your genes are in my genes

It’s not the same
As really happening
But a dream is the next best thing…

4. Talk About Getting Old

Hey baby when you coming home?
Been thinking lot about you…
I want to spend some time alone
But not alone without you…

I want to sit together
And talk about the day
Nothing too exciting anyway…
But a hand to hold…
Talk about getting old…

A homebody needs to be at home
And no one need remind us
We don’t need a lot of space to roam
Those days are all behind us

We’ll make love in the morning
It’s getting too late
It’s harder to get started after eight
Truth be told…
Talk about getting old…

Gravity’s relentless
It’s taking quite a toll…
Our bodies are always younger than our souls…
Like tarnished gold…
Everything’s getting old…
Hey baby look how much we’ve grown
In the art of conversation
We’ve got language of our own
Considerate and patient

Everything’s forgiven
We’ve figured it out
Can’t remember what we fought about…
A lighter load…
Talk about getting old…

Growing into comfort
Softened by the hurt
Skin is fitting looser but like a worn-in shirt
I suppose
Guess we’re just getting old…

Someday we’ll sit on our front porch
Watch the grandkids playing
And see how far we’ve passed the torch
In the daylight fading

We won’t be caught flatfooted
It won’t come as a shock
When bodies can’t do more than talk
And repose…
We’ll talk about getting old…

5. Windowpane

A new sight
A new sound
A new silence more profound
A new world
A new plane
Opens through this Windowpane

A light like a sequin
Glinting through the leaves
Of the Tabebuia blooming
I’m savoring everything…

It’s slow and it’s funny
Stretching my legs to the ground running
Up crystal stairs and humming
My ears start to buzz and ring…

If you want it, then you can do it
Truth is out there
And we knew it…
The window’s open so jump through it
And peer on the other side…

A new set
A new setting
A new way of forgetting
A new state
A new frame
I’m tripping through this windowpane

The seeds are all scattering
And “Spring” is a command!
I’m hunting and I’m gathering
The best things that I can…

And everything is breathing
Colors run like they’re weeping
A dream we dream without sleeping
An hourglass without sand…

If you want it, you’ve got to do it
The window’s open
Let’s run through it
Holding hands as we both tune in…
And turn on the light inside…

A new crazy
A new sane
A new heart
A new brain
It’s no time
To explain
I’m stepping through this windowpane

The sun in all its splendor
Was setting in the East
I think that’s what I remember
With purple, golden streaks

If the weird is what you’re into
It may be the right time
The Tabebuia is blooming
If you’re looking for a sign…

My body has got to do it
The window needs
Me to break through it
Every atom belonging to it
Is waiting to free my mind…

6. Sunday Morning

You wake up early on Sunday morning
It came on quickly and without warning
The house is empty, the party’s over
It takes adjusting, you’re moving slower
And with the knowledge you’re not invincible
You know it’s true
That Saturday night finally got the best of you…

While you move about collecting
You take some time for your reflecting
The bottle’s empty, the smoke has settled
You comb your hair back, you’re still disheveled,
With Saturday’s clothes hanging on you
And all too soon
Sunday morning crawls to Sunday afternoon…

Instrumental Break-

You’re staying in, you’re not real religious
You draw the shades, you don’t need a witness
A Sunday service you’re now resuming,
You’re feeling fragile at your most human…
You’re a one man congregation
So penitent and blue
For all the things that a Saturday night can make you do

The rooms that echo were filled with chatter
You had them laughing, that’s all that mattered
Telling stories to friends and others
Full-time hipsters, your part-time lover,
But in the end it’s so predictable
It’s not deja vu,
Sunday morning’s always turn to afternoons…

Instrumental Break-

In the wreckage, you feel pathetic
The place looks awful, it’s just cosmetic
You need some sunshine, your face is pallid,
You want to go, but your will is ragged,
And so you sit there ruminating
On all you could do…
While Sunday morning turns itself into the afternoon…

You woke up early this Sunday morning
It came on quickly and without warning
Tomorrow you’ll be driving slowly
To the office, and thinking only
“Now the lights on, you’re illuminated!”
You know it’s true
You’ll be right back here next Sunday afternoon…
Sunday morning’s always turn to afternoons…
Sunday morning’s turn to Sunday afternoons…

7. Blues for Now

Do you ever wonder
Why we give a thought
To past or to future
When all that we’ve got
Is present
And we’re missing quite a lot…

What could have been
What should have been
What might have been
What will have been
Oh no,
There’s really only what there is
And you don’t get to
Go and take it back my friend…

You said the wrong thing
Didn’t say enough
You acted too funny
You acted too tough
Well being
A human being is rough

The conversation
That plays in your head
Won’t go down like that
What will happen instead
Is you’ll do
Just exactly what you did
To avoid it, you’d have to go off of the grid

Is it a sin
Or some human fault
We flee from a city
Then get turned into salt
Well I guess,
I guess that’s just our lot

Retracing steps
Already made
Or counting up money
Before we get paid
Just look
Look how far we’ve gone and strayed
Into a cycle
Of past and future-retrograde

We’re running forward…
We’re looking back…

Life’s a game
And we play the odds
We call it random
Then blame the gods
When we know that correlation’s not a cause

But living is blues
I’ve worked that out
Cause we’ve got to have something
To sing about
We’ve got to have something to sing or shout
While we’re on this temporary roundabout

We’re looking forward…
We’re running back…

8. The Feast of Flowers

The Feast of Flowers in the evening hours
The world is ours at the Feast of Flowers

Open the curtain of the past again
The breeze is so inviting
A fragrant spell
Is springing
From an ancient well

An almost island in-between the seas
Where hearts of palm are beating
Cicadas making music
Clouds gathering above
This land that we love…

The sound of sails on a foamy shore
When tall ships were invading
Wood and steel
And secrets
The Western World concealed

Shouts of welcome in a local tongue
Gifts of tabby and coquina
The feast for them was ending
When it had just begun
In this land that they loved…

Their stories buried under sandy soil
Secrets still worth keeping
They’re safer from harm
Clay pots and sacred charms
And flowers

The Feast of Flowers blooms on Spanish towers
Reveal yours powers, it’s feast on the flowers

Built by citrus picked by darkest hands
Lonely farmlands still remind me
Before them stood plantations
Our sordid history

Overbrimming with the fruits of toil
It was a feast for masters only
Unknown slaves who labored
Bless them everyone
In this land under the sun…

In the garden when the moon is high
The gator’s eyes are gleaming
An inverse world reflected
Changing with the tide

The Swanee river running ever wild
The St. John’s fleeing northward
Baptizing with beauty
Cleansing holy ground
In this feast where all is found…

A land of plenty and a land of poor
No halcyon days of yore
The past is unforgiving
The present’s giving more
Than flowers…

Pull back the curtain of the past again
Examine it unflinching
Like citrus trees we’re grafted
To what came before…

Stories built on stories
This land where we were born
A feast of joy and pain
And the fossilized remains
Of flowers…

The Feast of Flowers in the evening hours
The world is ours at the Feast of Flowers


1. Cool World

Living for the weekend
Working for the grind
Files in the briefcase
And business on the mind
Saving up for something
A brand new shiny toy
One you don’t require
And don’t enjoy…

No rest for the weary
Who race to get ahead
Going for the gold,
But going broke instead…
Trying to get a leg up
By stepping on some toes
Crippling each other but
Everybody knows

Innocence like tempers
Needs to be conserved
You know you’ve lost it when you lose it…
At least that’s what I’ve heard…
It’s a cruel, cruel, world…

The world is like a factory
With gnashing metal gears
But this machine isn’t working
It hasn’t been for years
And people are like products
Built only to break
I think planned obsolescence
Was a mistake…

Here’s to second guessing!
I used to be so sure
But now that I am confessing
I’m not that anymore…
I’ve lost my confidence in
The people at the top
Making all the money
And calling shots
“A home is all we wanted!’
The bankers all agree-
“We’ll help you up to here in debt
That’s how it’s supposed to be…”
Cause it’s a cruel, cruel world…

America, the beauty
So lonely by herself
She’s made and lost a fortune
And compromised her health…
She doesn’t have insurance
The bill is coming due
America your eyes are red
You’re black and blue…

Nations always crumble
Rome was bound to fall
But really in the abstract
Aren’t we all?
It’s a cruel, cruel world…

There’s beauty and disorder
As boundless as the sea
I hope it makes more sense to you
Than the sense it makes to me
And here we are in free-fall
Singular in space
The universe above us
A holy place…

A feeling is a feeling
The bad comes with the good
I want to understand it
And to be understood
Cause it’s a cool, cool world…

2. Marjorie in Her Garden

Marjorie in her garden
On a corner of the estate
Planting seeds in the fertile soil
So they can germinate

Dreaming she’s not indentured
Working just for herself
Marjorie’s seeing visions
But not of fame or of wealth

She looks like she couldn’t
Even hurt a fly
But there’s more to Marjorie
Than meets the eye
Marjorie is biding time…

She could be writing poems
But she’s working on her list
A proscription that gives her every
Reason just to exist

The lords who always were looking
The vassals who crossed the line
The clergymen who were lechers
The king- the worst of his kind

So she trains her body
Her heart like anthracite
To show everyone who said
She couldn’t be a knight
Marjorie was always right

Marjorie the time has come
Marjorie the deed is done
Marjorie will never bow to anyone…

She didn’t fit with tradition
So she hollowed out a space
With an axe she forged all by herself
A crossbow and a mace

A sharp blade of obsidian
With a handle of human bone
Delivered straight to oblivion
The king upon his throne

Marjorie was tired
Of always playing nice
Dismantling a system
Takes a sacrifice
Marjorie knew what would suffice
Only one thing would suffice

So now the castle is empty
The banners all are stripped
It’s as quiet as a cloister
And as haunted as a crypt

She maintains her religion
She says her prayers at night
To God -but God the woman
There’s no one more contrite

Sleeping on a feather bed
Her face so young and fair
With a dagger in her pocket
A flower in her hair
Marjorie is dreaming there

Marjorie doesn’t need
Anyone or anything
Marjorie is planting seeds…

3. River Running


4. Nenikḗkamen

I remember that day
Daydreaming just to pass the time away
Of all the cafes, she walked into mine
I forgot what to say
Started sweating and my tongue was tongue tied
Her beauty hit me that way, like a landslide

I had seen her before
While reading ‘bout the Greek and Persian wars
And sitting in the corner with my coffee
She walked in that door
And lit up every inch inside the store
So I got up and implored if they were hiring…

Then it was just before dawn
She had her brightest neon running shoes on
Bells went off like alarms, and inspired me

I said that I ran too
A little fiction now and then won’t hurt you
If that’s really true… it would surprise me…

You just put one foot before the other
One step and then another
I wasn’t out to win the race
But I’d do anything to keep her pace
So I started my training

What had I gotten into?
What would Pheidippides do?
Run until there’s nothing left
Then shout with a dying breath

Long runs by her side
Panting breath but we talked all the time
And her beauty magnified every mile
Even falling behind
It had its perks and I took ‘em in stride
Watching her backside as she ran in style

I’d follow her to the moon
With all our miles, we’d be getting there soon
Followed her to the bed, now I’ll be quiet…
We were from that time
Running partners of a different kind
Yeah, we’d stay side by side, we decided

You just put one foot before the other
One step and then another
I wasn’t out to win the race
But I’d do anything to keep her pace
So I started my training

What had I gotten into?
What would Pheidippides do?
Run until there’s nothing left
Then shout with a dying breath

Ten years to the day
Since we started saying more than what friend’s say
And I still catch my breath, whenever I see her
She still runs before dawn
I get up and put the coffee on
And the kids wait out on the lawn, just to greet her

Life isn’t that long…
It’s not a sprint but a marathon
Then we’ll all join in the song, Nenikḗkamen!

5. The Orionids of Bahia

Halley won’t you come back to me
Halley I’m as lonely as can be

Halley’s like a comet
Never staying in one place
As the season changes
She’s traveling apace

But so much like that comet
There she goes…

By putting in the effort
I can predict where she will be
I’m plotting out the heavens
Learning cartography
She’s heading for the mountains
Forsaking the blue sea
Halley leave a trail
Just for me…

Halley defies gravity
Halley floats casually…

Halley’s like a comet
Orbiting a sphere
She returns to where she started
But two times in one year

And so much like that comet
There she goes…

She can feel the weather changing
When the north winds start to blow
Heading for the beaches
Forsaking the snow
I long to see her walking
Like a samba on the sand
Illuminating everything she can…

Like all her other lovers
I’m doing just the same
“The Orionids of Bahia”
They’ve given us that name
Cause we follow Halley’s footsteps
Wherever they may fall
For Halley, the comet, one and all…

I like to picture Halley from space
With starlight shining all round her face

Her hair flung back behind her
Like a comet’s tail
Caught up in the breeze like that
Her scent upon the air

But so much like that comet
There she goes…

Life is filled with longing
That’s what I believe
She’s moving to the mountains
Forsaking the sea
Come back to Ipanema
I’ll be watching up above
For Halley, the comet, and my love…

6. After it All

When a man is buried
Who could ask for more
Than a countryside or prairie
A calm and peaceful shore

Maybe he’s just sleeping
Maybe in a dream
And maybe there is nothing
Or there’s everything that’s been
All redeemed…

Just like the beginning
The quiet and the space
Will someday be overbrimming
With all the human race
A holy place…

When a man is buried
Maybe things don’t end
He’s meeting all his heroes
Or talking with his friends
Without end…

When a man is buried
He’s let in on the joke
Of which religion got it
And which of them had smoke
Behind the cloak…

After it all…
After it all…
After it all…
After it all…

7. Truth in the Abstract

The summer’s almost over
The days are growing short
A season of disorder
Will the Fall fall apart?

The winds come on rushing
Passing like a prayer
Cultivating something
I’m breathing in the air…

Every moment makes a connection
In the heart and head
Understanding through introspection
I think we’ve been misled

Is this really worth our attention?
What can we comprehend?
Does it even make any difference-
Enemy or friend
To the end
To the end

So here in this half light
We see only half clear
At best we’re merely half right
No matter how sincere

Truth really matters
Only if it’s true
And everything you’re assuming
I will not assume

“Answers always make me suspicious”
At least that’s what I’ve said
“Questions only lead to more questions”
Onward to the end

Cosmic censorship interjects an
Existential dread
No one here can confirm or deny when
We can’t wake the dead
Who ascends?
An act of surrender
I’m willing to choose
If everything’s determined
Are we free to lose?

If we replace the Argo
Every plank and nail
The only question worth asking
Is “will that ship still sail?”

Human being, real and authentic,
Leaves us terrified
Feeling our way to light from the darkness
Forms demystified

Stolen moments lost to distraction
More than meets the eye
Muddled everything to abstraction
“Trust but verify”
We can try
We can try…

So now, let’s get going
Onward to the new
Unencumbered by tradition
Untethered to the pew

Those who know keep silent
Those who speak, don’t know
And somewhere in the distance
A soul begins to grow…

Every moment makes a connection
In the heart and head
Understanding through introspection
I think we’ve been misled

Is it really worth our attention?
What’s waiting round the bend?
Times moves only in one direction
Reminds and condescends
To what end?

8. Quarantine Song

Brother, it’s amazing
How I’ve been missing you
And sister, we’re going crazy
And you know how I’ve been missing you too…
The distances between us
May be nothing new
But it may be quite a while yet,
Before they’re through…

Like atoms, we’re connected
Across the universe
One way then the other
In sympathy we turn our course…
Entanglement’s a comfort
Estrangement a curse…
Sometimes we need reminding
It could be worse…

There’s only looking up
From the bottom of a well…
We may have reached that far
At least as far as I can tell…
And though the water’s rising
We float so well…
The sky was mesmerizing
And then it fell…

We’re all a bit like gold
Gold that’s pounded flat
But pressed to such thinness
This element can be brought back
Entropy can’t harm us
We’re just like that…
If the gift of human kindness
Is still intact…

A match without friction
Struggles to ignite
Potential is there for fire
But only if the moment’s right…
Things are getting colder
Can you spare a light?
And I’m feeling so much older…
But that’s alright…

A body that’s in motion
Will stay in motion
And a body that’s at rest
Will always tend to stay at rest…
Certain laws of physics, this quarantine will test…
Energy is poetic…
When potential turns kinetic…
With love however distant,
S. Hedrick

Singer-Songwriter | Multi-Instrumentalist | Bossa Nova Enthusiast

All material on this wesbite © Steve Hedrick 2024