The Findells

The Findells




I was lying awake

Thinking about the way you wear your hair

Your tilted smile, your fingertips

The way you touch me there.

Walk to your window

Wait for the sun

When the light comes on

You are not the only one

Amanda….Amanda Lynne


You seem so distant

Leaning on windows walking through walls

The secret places in your life

Wedged in corners

Etched with care between the lines.

And I wanna know

I wanna know

Where did the money go?

Amanda…Amanda Lynne.


There’s a million dollar bill inside my pocket

And I will give it to you

If you’ll love me

If you’ll love me


Handshoes and horse grenades

Sun blades and razor shades

Wheel chairs and frog parades

I am not a train


Ceiling shades and lamp stains

Dog shots and blood bains

Bird brows and eye brains

I am not afraid.


If you’ll love me.

If you’ll love me.

If you’ll love me.


The Findells




She wants to go out

She wants to be free

Swim in the moonlight

Dance in the sea

She wants to make love

At a quarter to three


A dress on the wall

Diaphanous blue

Hung on a wire

An apparition of you

The neighbors believe

All the stories are true


A door is a door is a door, Isadora

A door is a door.


Remember the wine

The clink of the glass

The clouds in the sky

Lying back in the grass

He said that you had

A wonderful laugh


You knew in your heart

Love was just passing through

So young, extravagant,

So beautiful and true

There’s only one thing

A lover can do.


A bell is bell is a bell, Isabella

A bell is a bell.


There’s a crack in the window

A tear in the screen

A struggling swallow

Trapped in between

Lured by the promise

A reflection can bring.


The Findells


In memory of Lenore Kandel, beat poet and activist.  Anna Hennessy on violin.


Lenore Kandel



They’re selling lies again Lenore

Your words are bouncing off the windows and the doors

And the floors

They don’t know what to do

They’re afraid of you

And anything new

They think that you might shed your crazy light upon us all

And the angels fall

They do not know there is no end to love


They’re coming after you Lenore

We’re not welcome in Paradise anymore

They’ve slammed the door

There is no place to hide

From the rising tide

Of the sanctified

They take love out of our hearts and put it in the sky

Where the angels cry

They do not know there is no end to love

No end to love


Lenore, they dare not hold a candle to your name

Lenore, you would dance naked in the flame

So open up the curtains and throw away the shame

You are beautiful, beautiful one hundred times

Beautiful, beautiful one hundred times


Lenore, my heart is beating fast Lenore

Oh Mona

The Findells


Drinking at the bar, this guy comes in and...


by Jan Olsson

                                                                                              Jan Olsson  (www.Janolssonart.com)



Sorry I missed your call

But I was passed out in the hall

Stayed out too late and I drank too much again.

Got in around three o’clock

Couldn’t get my key in the lock

Now I’m out here with the cat and the recycling bin.


I can’t live without you

Oh Mona, Oh Mona

I can’t live without you

Oh Mona please open the door.


Drank with a guy down at the Baja Bean

Who thought being clever was to be obscene

Said to all the girls, why don’t you sit on my facebook.  (ha ha ha)

I hung around for a while

Flirted with the bartender just to see her smile

Watched a desperate woman disappear into a trivia machine.


I can’t live without you

Oh Mona, Oh Mona

I can’t live without you

Oh Mona please open the door.


We live in our houses

Go to work in our cars

Meet in hotels and alleys

Drink in our bars

We pray in our churches

For no permanent scars.


I remember the night we met

You held my clarinet

I talked a lot of trash- must’ve been hard to swallow.

But I was cute you said

So you took me to your bed.

Left a note inside my head

Goodnight Apollo.

The Findells
Greg Baker


Greg and I share a thing for Kafka. 



(by Greg Baker)


In the burrow way down below the ground

In the burrow where I am safe and warm

I dug the chambers with my hands

I struggled and was strong

A thousand tunnels, a maze of trails

A home beneath the storm

In the burrow, in the burrow.


In the burrow I spend my time alone

In the burrow I have all that I own

My enemies are multitude

They plot and they plan

Someday they may find me

I fool them all I can

In the burrow (Way way down)

In the burrow


In the burrow I hoard all of my food

In the burrow it smells of sweet perfume

Each morsel is temptation I try to resist

But then I can’t stop myself

I gorge until I’m sick.

In the burrow (way way down)

In the burrow


In the burrow my freedom is a cage

In the burrow I gladly lay in wait

The outside world is full of light

It makes me lose my head

I tell myself there’s no other way

I’ll stay here ‘til I’m dead

In the burrow (way way down)

In the burrow.

The Findells
by the Findells, including "Beloved" by John √Čluard


I was on the Charles Bridge in Prague in the wee hours of the morning, when I happened upon this couple, just below the Saint John statue doing things that can be done in shadows.

Features the wonderful violin of Anna Hennessy.  The coda is a poem by surrealist, John Éluard. 


Nusch by Dora Marr
Nusch by Dora Marr


(El Salvador)

I think I’ll drink this one down and get out of here

Something about this place just doesn’t seem right

All the millionaires sit in plastic chairs

And they wait for all the Christian girls to pass

And the boys with the broken windshields

Go home alone.


(Santa Fe)

I don’t look in the mirror anymore

And I don’t walk by the shop reflecting windows

And I don’t want to know where all the horses go

When the cowboys cannot ride them anymore.

And when the cowgirls take their Levi's off

I don't want to be left standing lost and lonely.

Cause I’m with you

Baby I’m with you

Oh honey, I’m with you

Like a swallow.



The girl on the bridge looks into my eyes

Over the shoulder of the man between her thighs

Another moment to last me ‘til I’m dead

Saint John stares across the river

He never told them what the Queen said.


(Nusch, by Paul Éluard)

She is standing on my eyelids

And her hair is in my hair

She has the shape of my hands

She has the color of my eyes

She is swallowed by my shadow

Like a stone against the sky.

Her eyes are always open

And she doesn’t let me sleep

Her dreams in broad daylight

Make the sun evaporate

Makes me laugh, cry, and laugh.

Makes me laugh, cry, and laugh.

And speak when I have nothing to say.


She owns my eyes.


The Findells


Bird by Andrew Hersey

                                             BIRD by Andrew Hersey  (www.andrewhersey.com)                                                       



 So Marilyn, you’ve been away

For such a long time I think it’s safe to say

I love you.  I love you.

It’s funny how as days go fast

The thoughts of you just seem to last forever.



And as I write I know it seems not quite so clear

Am I trying to torture myself?

Am I losing you?

There comes a time when it seems you’ve got to let it all out,

Gotta do it sometimes, can’t last forever.


So Marilyn, excuse me please

But the madcap laughs at the sight of his knees

Explore me, ignore me.


The Findells





Standing in the picture window

In the middle of the day

Everything is upside down

All the blues have gone grey


You should’ve loved her better than that

You could’ve lover her better


You were the life of the party

Everybody knows

All those wonderful moments

With and without your clothes


Walking home after midnight

Just a little bit high

Getting naked in the weeping mulberry bush

With the people walking by


Sometimes you don’t even notice

When the words turn to stones

Glances turn into daggers

Flesh turns to bone


Full moon over the Value-mart

As you argued in the parking lot

About the dress that she was wearing

And those fuck-me shoes


Another poison arrow

So many hidden scars

Too many nights you should’ve seen in her eyes

That you took it too far


And now the closet is empty

You hear the car door slam

You’re sitting at your kitchen table

With your head in your hands


The Findells


Joe John White died in a brush fire.  Horns by Richard Adams.




I think I’ll wait out in the car with the radio on

You can take your time, I’m okay-

I’ve got the radio on.

October came too fast

The summer never seems to last

You were right- I was a jerk

I did everything wrong

I did everything wrong


Mary, I must confess

Last night I went to your closet and I laid out your dress

Pulled out the Polaroids and made a mess


(Oh oh, here I go)

I go to pieces sometimes and I forget

There is a back and a front and a window in between

In a roomful of whispers, of fragments, elements and compounds

I need the smell of coffee,

The liquefaction of your breath.


Mary, we don’t dance naked in the kitchen no more

We don’t do the funky chicken on the floor

I’m such a bore.


I’m busted and I’m broken

And I don’t know how to get over you

I’m broken and I’m breathless

And I don’t want to get over you.


I’d like to take you away

A place where nobody knows

There’s a house at the edge of the world with a hell of a view


Swallowed up, Swallowed up.

Swallowed up in the kingdom of shadows

Swallowed up by the angry sky

Swallowed up by the empty pages

By the magic in the sparrow’s eye

Swallowed up by the moonlight in the water

Swallowed up by the promise of rain

Swallowed up by the brush and the briar

Trapped in the flickering flame


Oh oh, here I go. 

The Findells


Gypsy Hill Park.  The picnic table is gone.  Replaced by a Gazebo.
That's Jim Harrington on the accordion.





I saw you dancing in the dark

Shadows all around you and I felt a spark.

But things don’t often go the way you’ve got ‘em planned

Where are you now?


Where are you now?

Did you lose yourself somehow?

When you were just twenty-one

You kept the young boys on the run.

Where are you now?


In the park I saw your friend

It looked to me like he was near the end.

And it must’ve been you standing by his side

Hanging on for the ride.


Where are you now?

Did you lose yourself somehow?

When you were just twenty-one

You kept the young girls on the run.

Where are you now?


So think of me if you still can

I’m just an ordinary kind of man

I blinked my eyes one day and you were gone

Searching for another son.


Where are you now?

Did you lose yourself somehow?

Time changes and we all have our fears

You just gotta learn when to change gears

Where are you now?

The Findells


It was on a Trailways.  She had an English/German dictionary and a very sweet voice.  I had a bottle of Wild Turkey. 



(for the German girls)

There’s no need to apologize

I saw it all within your eyes

Never did seem real to me

It was just a fantasy

But still sometimes I hear your voice

It lifts me up above the noise

And though I know it’s just a dream

It would be so nice just to hear you sing.


Evie, won’t you sing one more for me

My eyes are wet and I can hardly see

I’ll try to keep it simple so you can understand

Evie, won’t you sing one more for me.


I realize you were all alone

But you were not the only one

And sometimes it’s hard to be

Everything that you want to be


Evie, won’t you sing one more for me

My eyes are wet and I can hardly see

Get out your dictionary, look up extraordinary

Oh Evie, won’t you sing one more for me.




I wrote this song for someone

And it might as well be for you.

The Findells


A drunken chorus of friends in the Finhut.   Peter Aaslestad, Nelly Kate Anderson, Clarence Brooks, Eileen Brooks, Steven Paul Coogan, Rebecca Delgado, Valerie Gangwer, Bobby Garcia, Paul Klink, Nathan Scott Moore, Hunter Moyé, Lauren Moyé, Peggy Moyé, Ken Pawlik, Zuzu Petras, Sarah Elizabeth Pharis, Scarlett Rose Risken, Mary Yuhasz




Maybe live in the woods with a bear

Never worry ‘bout washing or combing my hair

My only friends would be the trees

Don’t have to worry ‘bout sex or VD

I won’t have no one there to tell me what to do

So I won’t know what to do

I wanna be a forest ranger


Don’t have to get up in the morning

Go to work or wash the dishes

Clean the toilet, flush the toilet

Take a bath or shave my face

Don’t have to pay no bills or taxes

Or send money to my mom,

Ride the buses through the city

Or worry about clean socks


I wanna be a forest ranger


Maybe baby, my dream seems simple to you

But you don’t seem to understand what I’m going through

My days are my nights, my nights are my days

Take me back home to where the antelope play

And sing me a song of how it was then

Before the closets were open and men were just men

A silicon song of artificial limbs

No one even knew when a sin was a sin


I wanna be a forest ranger

A forest ranger is so cool

I wanna be a forest ranger

A forest ranger ain’t no fool.