John McCutcheon
The Greatest Story Never Told

The new album, The Greatest Story Never Told, contains thirteen new songs, including a number that have been performance staples this past year. Once again, I was joined by my trusty band, augmented by my friends Tom Chapin & Michael Mark, the Kennedys, Tim O’Brien and Australian friends Kerrianne Cox and the Stiff Gins. The result was great fun and I’m thrilled with the results. Hope you’ll enjoy!

Formats

Compact Disk: Red House Records CD:

Lyrics

The Greatest Story Never Told
Words & music by John McCutcheon

A few years ago I wrote a Christmas story for my family entitled “The Gospel According to Joe.” It was the Christmas story told from Joseph’s perspective. The story began circulating around and eventually caught the ear of Joe Gunderman, an engineer at WKSU radio in Kent, OH, who proposed turning it into a radio drama. “Needs some music,” he ordered. This is what came out.

John: vocal, guitar, hammer dulcimer
Jon: harmony vocals, electric & acoustic pianos, organ
JT: harmony vocals, bass
Pete: electric guitar
Jos: drums & percussion
Maura: harmony vocals

I was eyes for Columbus
I was the hand at the wheel
I mined the coal for Carnegie
I made his fortune and steel
I was the guide (light) for Lewis and Clark
I saw them safe to the sea
And at Monticello
I was the fellow
Who built everything that you see

I was John Henry’s partner
Without me he’d never have won
I laid the tracks from the oceans
Forged the gold spike when it was done
I was first on the beaches at Normandy
I was the first one to fall
And though you may look
In your history book
You’ll not find me mentioned at all

Chorus

Will they remember my name in the evenings
When the fire fades to embers and coals?
Recall the deeds I have done?
Will I be the one?
Or will my life be
The greatest story never told?

When Harriet Tubman came knocking
I hid her safe in my barn
When the Nazis came rounding up Jews in our town
My loft kept them sheltered from harm
When Martin marched into Montgomery
I was right there at his side
When the battle was mounted
I stood to be counted
A part of the great rising tide

Chorus

Bridge

For age upon age it’s recorded
The story is always the same
When our children are charting the future
Who are the heroes they’ll name?
When history comes calling for blood and for bone
And we each take our place in the dance
Between the famous and few
And the people like you
Is that sliver of fortune and chance

They will remember of that first Christmas morning
They will tell of the Virgin and child
The shepherds that worshipped in wonder
The kings and the animals mild
I accepted my place in the bargain
Though the questions were constantly near
I worked my whole life
For my child and wife
Another father, all fire and fear

Chorus

London, August 2000
©2000 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)

Ghosts of the Good Old Days
words & music by John McCutcheon & Si Kahn

John: vocal & guitar
JT: bass
Tim: harmony vocals, fiddle & mandolin

Back ‘fore I’s in long britches
And the train stopped every other day
The coke ovens belched that black smoke
And kids runnin’ every which-a-way
My Mama and my Daddy said, “High times a-coming”
And the tipple kept a-spittin’ that coal
The circuit ridin’ preacher and the missionary teacher
Kept you cipherin’ and singin’ for your soul

Chorus

Oh, the rattle of the track ain’t never comin’ back
And the tipple is a-crumblin’ in the wind
And this town is a-bleedin’ out of every road a-leadin’
Up the river where you never even been
It’s the lure of the young, it’s the honey on the tongue
And you told ‘em in a hundred different ways
But you watch ‘em as they’re fleein’, when they look back all they’re seein’
Are the ghosts of the good old days

Well, I got me a wife and I got me a job
And I got me a union card
And I hoed me a patch by the side of the river
So we were ready when the times got hard
We hung three pictures above the old sofa
It was Jesus, FDR, and John L
So we knew how to pray and we knew how to vote
And we knew how to really give ‘em hell

Chorus

But the times rolled by and the kids rolled with ‘em
And now the dust never settles on the road
And I lie awake at night thinkin’ ain’t it a sight
How history is a mighty heavy load’
It weren’t’ the scabs or the dozers or the wind in the winter
Drove young ‘uns to the cities by the score
It was the road and the car and the can’t stay where you are
And the thirst that makes you always look for more

©1995 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP) & Si Kahn/Joe Hill Music (ASCAP)
Charlottesville, VA February 1995

Dancing in the Street
Words & music by John McCutcheon

John: vocal & guitar
Jon: harmony vocals, piano & organ
JT: harmony vocals & bass
Pete: electric guitar
Jos: drums
Pete Barenbregge: saxophone

Fingernail moon in a Detroit sky
A bag blows down the street
People pass ‘neath the streetlight’s glow
And pray their eyes won’t meet
Somewhere in this lonely night
Her shift is almost done
I’m content to wait right here
And hope that she might come
She’s usually out by half past ten
When this summer breeze turns cool
And I always ask her dancing
Me? I’m a dancin’ fool

Chorus

I’m gonna put my hand
In the small of your back
Don’t turn away, girl,
You gotta look back
You dance with your eyes
As well as your feet
Tonight we’re going
Dancing in the street

By day I worked at Woolworth’s
It’s just a job for lousy pay
But it left me free by 8:00
To dance my nights away
But I never paid attention
To all the changes in this town
How Main Street moved out to the mall
And the five-and-dimes shut down
To take a stranger in your arms
To look her in the eye
And glide her ‘round the dance floor,
God, I never felt so high

Chorus

Bridge:

I guess when you grow older
It’s harder to recall
But the way these kids are dancing now
I don’t understand at all
The music isn’t live no more
They shout above the beat
They barely touch each other
And they pray their eyes don’t meet

I can still remember how to sweep
A woman off her feet
But they pass me in this doorway now
And pray our eyes don’t meet
For they only see the bottle
And these dirty, worn out clothes
And never see the dancer here
I’m only one of “those”
I know she’ll shake her head again tonight
And make her way back home
She’ll make her tea and read her book
And fall asleep alone
And perhaps, then, when our lives are dreams
And we’re beautiful and young
I’ll hold her in my arms and she will know
I am the one

Chorus

©2000 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Lawrence, KS December 2000

Last First Kiss
Words & music by John McCutcheon & Steve Seskin

An anniversary gift for my wife, Parthy.

John: vocal & guitar
Jon: piano & accordion
JT: bass
Pete: electric guitar
Maura: harmony vocal

Sunday morning, coffee’s on
The kids are gone
I’m thinking of that moment when
All you had to do was speak
My knees went weak
Yeah, I’m twenty-two years old again

Chorus

You were my last first kiss
I never imagined love could be like this
You are the woman I still can’t resist
You were my last first kiss

That Friday night at your front gate
It was getting late
A long, slow walk home from the dance
You said you had a real nice time
Slipped your hand in mine
I closed my eyes and took a chance

Chorus

Been to heaven
Been through hell
Since I gave you that ring
Now heaven knows
I wouldn’t change a thing

Chorus

Sunday morning, coffee’s on
The kids are gone
I’m thinking what a ride it’s been
Still all you have to do is speak
My knees go weak
I’m twenty-two years old again

©2001 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP) & Steve Seskin/ Larga Vista Music/ Scarlet Rain Music ( ASCAP)
Swannanoa, NC July 2001

Barbershop
Words & music by John McCutcheon

Stranded one hot August afternoon behind a long line of customers at my local barbershop…

John: vocal & banjo
Jon: harmony vocal & piano
JT: harmony vocal & bass
Pete: electric guitar
Jos: drums
Pete Barenbregge: clarinet
Ed Shifflett: “Who’s next?”

Open the door
And step inside
Pinaud, Vitalis,
And Barbicide
Towels in the steamer
Hot lather on the chin
“Watcha lookin’ at, boy
“Ain’t you gonna come in?”

Clean white coat
And a leather chair
Floor covered up
With an acre of hair
Take your place in line
With the boys and men
Sports Illustrated
And CNN

Chorus

Where the red & white stripes
Go round and round
Take off your hat
Set yourself down
Where time never starts
And the talk never stops
Down at the neighborhood
Barbershop

So how is your garden?
Where are your kids?
Can you believe
What the President did?
What the hell’s going on
In Baltimore?
Seems like the O’s
Can’t win no more

The old men and the cops
And the little kids
Each coming in here
Like their Daddy did
Some are little different
Some are little strange
Something’s just
Never seem to change

Chorus

We got your flattops
Ducktails, summer buzz
We’re still wondering
What the 70’s was
Here in the 21st
Century
Is there any place left
For a guy like me

Out at the Mall
On the county line
There’s a new place
That’s all noise and shine
You can get your hair done
In the latest style
Won’t make it down here
For a good long while

The only mousse
We’ve ever seen
Was over on the rack
In Field and Stream
We’re not old fashion
Or locked in time
It’s just permanence
Of a different kind

Where the red & white stripes
Go round and round
Take off your hat
Set yourself down
Where time never starts
And the talk never stops
Take up sides
Just little off the top
Help yourself to one them
Tootsie Roll Pops
Down at the neighborhood
Barbershop

©2001 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Charlottesville Barber & Styling August 2001

Children of Abraham
Words & music by John McCutcheon

John: vocal, guitar & hammer dulcimer
Jon: harmony vocal, piano & organ
JT: harmony vocal & bass
Pete: electric guitar
Jos: drums & percussion
Maura: harmony vocal

Once again
We gather here
As the night grows long
Deep in the year
It is a season of light
Of prayer and fasting
And the endless longing
For love everlasting

All the children of Abraham

And we are Isaac
On the mountaintop
By the hand of God
May the killing stop
Faith without measure
Hope without end
Love shall make
The nations bend

All the children of Abraham

And he said, “There is but One”
And he said, “There is but One”
And the name is Allah
And the name is Yahweh
And the name is Jesus
And the name is God

And in this year
This dark December
As we look onward
Let us remember
We share this history
We share this place
We share this moment
We ask for grace

All the children of Abraham

And he said, “We are but One”
And he said, “We are but One”
And we are Muslin
And we are Jew
And we are Christian
We are just me and you

All the children of Abraham

©2001 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Staunton, VA December 2001 (Hanukah/Ramadan/Advent)

Extend a Hand
Words & music by John McCutcheon

In May of 2000 nearly 400,000 people marched across the Sydney Harbor Bridge in support of the Reconciliation Movement, a call for dealing with the historic treatment of Aboriginal people by the white-majority population. Relative to Australia’s population this was one of the largest demonstrations in world history. (It would be comparable to 5 million people demonstrating in the US.) Cathy Freeman, the Aboriginal Olympic champion, was one of the lead marchers.

Later, when Cathy Freeman lit the Olympic torch at the start of the 2000 Summer Games the symbolism of the two opposing, mutually existing elements of fire and water in the Opening Ceremony was not lost on those of us following the Reconciliation Movement. The day Freeman won the gold medal in the women’s 400 meters a group of black and white Australian women were visiting my town. I was asked to join in welcoming them and composed this song in their honor. Kerrianne Cox was one of the women in that party and I asked her to join me on this recording. (www.kerriannecox.com)

I met the Stiff Gins, a trio of young Aboriginal women, at the Illawara Folk Festival in March of 2001, south of Sydney. We became friends and, when they toured the US and Canada the following July they, too, joined me here. (www.stiffgins.com)

John: vocal & guitar
JT: fretless bass
Ian: didgeridoo & clap sticks
Kerrianne Cox: dreamtime chant
The Stiff Gins (Nadia Simpson, Kaleena Briggs & Vanessa Fisher): harmony vocals

In a ring of fire and water
She raised the ancient flame
Freedom was her birthright
Freedom was her name
As all the world was watching
Without a single word
She spoke for generations
And every voice was heard

200 years and more have past
Since Cooke saw Botany Bay
Still the choices that we make
Create our history every day
The things that we remember
The races that we start
Have brought us to the water’s edge
With a fire in our heart

Chorus

As we walk across the Harbor Bridge
We reach across the years
We reach across our differences
We reach across our fears
We reach into the mystery
As we seek to understand
The meaning of our history
We each extend a hand

A stolen generation
Children taken from their home
Taken from the bush to town
Taken from their blood and bone
Still the Dreamtime called to them
The songlines shone the way
Led them safely back to home
Led us to this day

Chorus

Everyday I wonder why
“I’m sorry” is in short supply
Still we try and try and try
And try and try and try and try and try

In a ring of fire and water
She raised the ancient flame
Freedom was her birthright
Freedom was her name
She raced into the future
With both banners of our nation
The fire and the water danced
In reconciliation

Chorus

©2000 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Charlottesville, VA September 2000

Follow the Light
Words & music by John McCutcheon, Tom Chapin & Michael Mark

The weekend following September 11th I played at the Walnut Valley Festival in Winfield, KS, as I’ve done for twenty years or more. Without the option of flying, I drove all night that Thursday to make my Friday afternoon and evening performances. When I finally got to my hotel room it was nearly midnight and, like most of the rest of America, I immediately turned on the television. I caught the very end of a prayer vigil in Manhattan. As the credits rolled the camera focused on a small circle of candles left by now-long-gone participants. In the center of this circle of candles was a hand-lettered sign, “Follow the Light Home to Me.” At breakfast the next morning I showed Tom and Michael the first draft of this song. We finished it that afternoon and debuted it that night.

John: vocal & guitar
Tom Chapin: vocal
Michael Mark: vocal
Jon: harmony vocal, piano & organ
JT: harmony vocal & bass
Pete: electric guitar
Jos: drums
Maura: harmony vocals

We were 7 and 8
My sister and I
Lost in the woods
When lightening filled up the sky
As we ran through the ran
We knew where to head
To the light on the porch
“Come home!” like Mama said

Chorus

Follow the light
When you’re lonely and lost
When out on the ocean
You are tumbled and tossed
Follow your heart
Wherever you may be
Follow the light on home to me

Out on the sea
The waves heave and rise
Far from the shore
When a storm mounts the skies
We look for a sign
For some welcoming sight
A beacon from home
To guide us on this night

Chorus

Bridge

There’s a hole in our skyline
There’s a hole in our town
There’s a hole in our hearts
The whole world around
How do we heal?
How do we see
The mercy that shines in you and me?
(We follow the light…)

When the world feels so big
And we seem so small
And you wonder if life
Has any meaning left at all
When you’re losing your heart
When you’re losing the fight
Hold on to my hand
And we will follow the light

©2001 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Winfield, KS  September 2001

Not in My Name
Words & music by John McCutcheon

John: vocal, guitar & hammer dulcimer
Jon: harmony vocals, piano & organ
JT: harmony vocals & bass
Pete: electric guitar
Jos: drums
Maura: harmony vocals

You see the plane in the distance
You see the flame in the sky
See the young ones running for cover
See the old ones wondering why
They tell us that the world is a dangerous place
We live in a terrible time
But in Hiroshima, New York or in Baghdad
It’s the innocent who die for the crime

Chorus

Not in my name
Not in my name
Not in my name
Not in my name

The witnesses watch through the window
Their hearts locked in horror and pain
At the man lying strapped to a gurney
As the poison is pumped through his veins
And I’m wondering who are the prisoners
Who holds the lock and the key
Who holds the power over life, over death
When will we finally be free? Chorus

Bridge

We stray and we stumble in seeking the truth
And wonder why it’s so hard to find
But an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
Leaves the whole world toothless and blind

Through the ages I have watched all your holy wars
Your jihads, your Crusades
I have been used as inspiration, I’ve been used as an excuse
For the murder and the misery you’ve made
I thought I made it clear in the Bible
In the Torah and in the Koran
What is it in my teaching about loving your enemies
That you people don’t understand?

Chorus

©2001 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Denver, CO  October 2001

When I Grow Up
Words & music by John McCutcheon

John: vocal & guitar
Jon: piano
JT: bass
Jos: drums
Tim: harmony vocals & fiddle

When I was a little boy
Sittin’ on my Grandpa’s knee
He’d tousle my hair and ask me
“What are you gonna be?”
But when I was little boy
I was too busy being small
I didn’t know he was my rear view mirror
I was his crystal ball
But now I’m pushin’ 50
It’s all gone quicker than I planned
And I finally understand
It’s time to wonder what…I’m gonna be
When I grow up

When I grow up
When I grow up
When I grow up
I wanna be, I wanna be

I wanna be a character
A cantankerous soft touch
The kinda guy who’ll tell the same three sorry jokes
And always tips too much
I wanna be unpredictable
You never know what I might say or do
His tales aren’t factual but they’re true
I’ll never fall in a rut
When I grow up

When I grow up…
I wanna be an unrepentant romantic
The kinda guy whose dancing is inspired
Who goes to bed early on a Saturday night
And not because he’s tired
I wanna be sentimental
The kinda guy who’ll cry at a book’s sad ending
Who’s constantly befriending
Some poor, flea-bitten mutt
When I grow up

And I wanna be a elder
The kinda guy all the neighborhood kids come see
Can I sit on your knee?
Won’tcha tell me one story, please?
And I wanna be wise
It’s a whole lot better than being smart
Leading with your heart
I’ll be a guy who trusts his gut
When I grow up

When I grow up…
I wanna be an old fart
The kinda guy who hangs around hardware stores
Who always calls a waitress by her name
And knows all the latest scores
I wanna be eccentric
They’ll say my ideas are a little bit skewed
To the pompous I’ll be rude
And to the powerful a pain the butt
When I grow up

©2000 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Salina, KS June 2000

Used to Be
Words & music by John McCutcheon & Steve Seskin

John: vocal & guitar
Jon: piano
JT: bass
Pete: electric guitar
Jos: drums

Used to be
I could work from dawn to dusk
The man who get the job done every time
Used to be
I lived out on the edge
I took a lot of chances, that was fine
Now a days
I can’t do that anymore
I get scared and I get sore
Life ain’t nothing like it was before

I don’t wanna go back in time
When I look at this life of mine
I’m thankful for every single day
The past can do a number on you
But I’ve come to believe it’s true
That my best years are still ahead of me
And there’s no future in how it used to be

Used to be
There was no night too long
We were two young lovers hungry for the dark
You and me
We built a world together
And there were times the whole thing almost fell apart
Now a days
That seems so long ago
We take things kind of slow
It’s a different kind of love we’ve come to know

I don’t wanna go back in time
When I look at this love I find
I am thankful for every single day
Forgive me if I speak for you
But I think you believe it too
That best years are still ahead for you and me
And there’s no future in how it used to be

©2002 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP) & Steve Seskin/ Larga Vista Music/ Scarlet Rain Music ( ASCAP)
Charlottesville, VA February 2002

Walk on Water
Words & music by John McCutcheon

In December 1995 I was brought in for a concert to benefit “For the Love of the Lake,” an citizen’s organization dedicated to the preservation of Dallas’ White Rock Lake. Marci Winter, the indefatigable booster of the group, supplied me with reams of background information on the Lake and the efforts to clean it up. One particularly interesting story detailed the legend of the young woman who…as though she sprang from a teenage rock ballad…died in a the Lake and appears phantasmagorically from time to time. During the intermission of the concert I wrote this song.

John: vocal & guitar
Jon; harmony vocal, piano & organ
JT: harmony vocal & bass
Pete: electric guitar
Jos: drums & percussion
Maura: harmony vocals

Let’s go down to the Lake tonight
I got my Daddy’s car and it’s Saturday
If the moon is out and the wind is right
We could sail on Sunset Bay
From Winfrey Point to Lawther Drive
The old ones swear she’s still alive

Chorus

She walks on water
She walks on water
She walks on water
Now it’s time to take her home

Let’s go down to the Lake tonight
I got the top down and some rock and roll
If the stars are out and the catfish bite
It sure enough will save your soul
From a first step to a first kiss
All my life it’s been like this (Where...)

Chorus

I swam at the boathouse
I first her piers
I sailed her waters
In my younger years
In the drought she share her bounty
More than once she saved our lives
Where the swimmers swim
And the runners run
And the children have played
Since their time begun
Where many husbands me their wives
It’s up to us to see that she survives

Let’s go down to the Lake tonight
There’s a sunset burning the evening sky
She’s out there now all dressed in white
And you can hear her lonesome cry
She’s asked for nothing in return
Now it’s time to see how much we’ve learned

Chorus

Let’s go down to the Lake tonight
And we can walk on water, walk on water
Let’s go down to the Lake tonight
And we can walk on water, too

©1995 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Dallas, TX December 1995

One in a Million
Words & music by John McCutcheon

I spent a particularly memorable Mother’s Day this year. The boys gave Parthy a trip to the Million Mom March as a Mother’s Day present and, of course, the full complement of McCutcheon/Monagans attended. Seldom have I been in such a positive, supportive and family-friendly gathering as was on the Mall in Washington that day. The call for “sensible laws and safe kids” resonated throughout the country as gatherings took place in dozens of other cities seeking to include those that geography and economics prevented from attending the major march in DC. Despite what the “the nattering nabobs of negativity” (to quote Spiro Agnew) portrayed, this was not a crowd of naïve idealists. We were a crowd of very experienced idealists, tired of inaction, propaganda and constitutional misrepresentation aimed at putting the safety of our children and communities behind the paranoid fantasies of the few. To quote Anna Quindlan, one of the featured speakers, “Why do I have the right to demand such things? Because I’m the Mom and I said so!”

John: vocal
Jon: piano

I remember that August
1963
A half million gathered
On our small TV
The moment was magic
With dreams in the air
My Mom watched in wonder
And said, “I wish I was there”

But there were babies to diaper
And a whole house to clean
So she watched the world change
On that black-and-white screen

She was one in a million
Who did her small part
And she carried that banner
Held high in her heart

She taught me the Bible
Each chapter and verse
How the meek shall inherit
And the last shall be first
She said, “God leaves God’s work
“To me and to you
“When you’re meek and you’re ready
“What will you do?”

Though she seldom traveled
Far from her front door
She watched the world change
In the children she bore

You are one in a million
You each have a part
Always carry that banner
Held high in your heart

Bridge

Those children now scattered
Like ships on the sea
Mounting adventures
That she’d never see
I never once doubted
What she said was true
I saw miracles mounting
And small victories counting
And it’s all worth recounting
This work that we do

Each Mother’s Day sadly
I look to the chair
Now fifteen years empty
And wish she were there
So this year I traveled
As her eldest son
To a Washington March
Just as she would have done

I marched for the future
In a million mom sea
I was marching for her
I was marching for me

I was one in a million
Just doing my part
And I carried her banner
Held high in my heart

©2000 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Kansas City, KS  May 2000