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When: Monday nite 9/12, 7:30EST (doors open @7 for community hang)


Who gets 10%: Cradles to Crayons volunteers prepare packages of clothing, shoes, books, and more for distribution throughout the year to hundreds of thousands of kids in the communities we serve. or or
a check to VanceFunder P.O. Box 17,
Arlington, MA 02476 for this web-groovery.
Pay or not, up to you. Let’s stay connected.

This week's pyjamas - I love the Brit spelling.

IN PERSON SHOWS: see way below.

NEW ALBUM. Donate any amount = name on the cover. Same links above, note “VanceFunder”. Any amount over $1 works, but $1000 -plus- makes you an exec producer, name in heavy black font.


I thought I’d just hit you with this fun lyric from my album Bad Dog Buffet. Part I loved most about recording it was when six-stringed genius Kevin Barry was playing his guitar fills and solo parts he was simultaneously smiling and giggling at the lyrics as they went by. Talk about listening closely...


I met the Buddah
At a birthday party
And he said he could
Make me smarter
Said he’d have me talking
Just like Stephen Hawking
Writing songs like A.P. Carter

Rule number one
About traps that I’ve learned
Turn your back on your bait
When you barter
So I thanked him twice
And said “That’s very nice but
I think I’ll just stay a slow starter”

Oh Bless all the ships at sea
Oh bless all the good
That makes it’s way back to me
Bless all the stars
And how far they fell thru the
Wind and the rain
And the snow and the sun
Oh what the hell
God Bless everyone

I could be my daddy’s most
Favorite child
Or I could be angry
And broken and wild
But I stand here before you
The one undefiled
Cause i refuse to choose
Between them

I’m getting quite good at
Riding this fence
It’s the one thing I do
That makes any damned sense
And I’ll live with that old man’s
If he stays buried where
I don’t have to see him.

Bless all the ships at sea
Oh bless all the good
That makes it’s way back to me
Bless all the clouds and the
Mountains and trees and the
Spiders with webs
That have yet to be spun
Oh what the hell..
God Bless everyone

Why Not?
Why Not?!!

So there goes your dream
Of being a spy where
The violins are trilling
You’re squinting one eye
As you aim and you shoot
And you waste the bad guy
Now you’re shaken and stirred
From your leisure

‘Cause you’ve traded your gun
And your waterproof tux
For shopping lists held up by
Daisies and ducks
On a Frigidare covered
By artwork that sucks
Made by children you love
Beyond measure

Bless all the ships at sea
Oh bless all the good
That makes it’s way back to me
Bless al the birds and the bees
And the children with scuffed up knees
That play in the sun
Oh what the hell,
God Bless everyone