Packwood
Steve Klingaman – debut LP 2000

LYRICS

And if I ever
pass this way again
I will remember when
will remember when.

All their sweat and all their labor
bought the banker’s Cadillac
he would lend you so much money
you could never pay it back.

Their children all are scattered
all across this great wide land
to raise suburban families
and get by the best they can.

And if I ever
pass this way again
I will remember when
will remember when.

On a silver-studded night
when his future was burning bright
he’d ride on out to Richland
she lives over Richland way.

The wind that blows over Packwood
is desire and memory
the rain that falls on Packwood
will wash away our history.

And if I ever
pass this way again
I will remember when
will remember when.

WILLARD & BEULAH

Willard & Beulah were farming north of Richland Iowa
a soil that is black & it’s deep & it’s fertile & harsh.
As a young man he worked as a farm hand for hire & he saved every dime
until one hundred & sixty odd acres he purchased in cash.
He said when a man is beholden to a lien on his land then the banker’s laws
can strip from him everything that he has worked to create.
It turned out to be true & the farmers he knew owed their souls to the bank
They lost everything, they lost it all & they lost it for good.
For the Great Depression it hit hard those small farms in Iowa
& Richland was not spared its terrible toll.
The markets collapsed & the co-op went under in Richland that spring
then drought set in & the crops failed in the fields.

The drought will stay long & the frost will come early
& winter’ll be freezing cold,
flood waters run high & the locusts will fly
& your riches are fool’s gold.

If you go hungry if your children are sick
don’t go knocking, don’t go knocking
on the banker’s door.

Willard would hunt with his hounds at night down by the river bank
with his carbide lamp & his rifle cocked in his arm.
If he’d bring home a kill then they’d salt it & can it for a winter’s day
a coon or a squirrel were a feast in the leanest of times.
Willard would joke about Roosevelt’s speech on the radio,
saying all that they had to fear was starvation & ruin.
Beulah would tend to the garden, it was her pride & joy,
& Willard would slaughter a hog late in the fall.
Somehow they made it on through, slowly, to better years
& through it all they shared the food that they could spare in town.
For Willard & Beulah were kind to kin & to neighbors they knew,
the kindness they showed was the miracle of those dark days.
The drought will stay long & the frost will come early
& winter’ll be freezing cold,
flood waters run high & your cattle will die
& your riches are fool’s gold.

If you go hungry if your children are sick
you’ll go knocking, you’d best be knocking
at old Willard’s front door
at sweet Beulah’s screen door.

The 20th century came late to small farms in Iowa
& their grip on the land was not nearly as strong as they thought.
Any young man who would bring his young bride to the farming life
had better be sure that his will is as strong as his back.

The drought will stay long & the frost will come early
& winter’ll be freezing cold,
flood waters run high & the locusts will fly
& your riches are fool’s gold.

If you go hungry if your children are sick
don’t go knocking, don’t go knocking
on the banker’s door.

IRENA CROSS THE OCEAN

Irena brush your hair now
before you go to sleep
I’ll tell you one more story
my promise for to keep.

Your mother is in heaven
she died when you were born
your father’s in a new country
he will send for you.

You’ll sail a mighty ship there
across the mighty sea
and you’ll become a woman
in your new country.

Irena cross the ocean
Irena cross the sea
Irena cross the water
and never I’ll see you again.

The sailors tell of dolphins
that follow in their wake
and they watch o’er the children
so no young hearts will break.

I have saved a locket
your mother used to wear
her spirit will protect you
out on the new frontier.

They say that there are fields there
as far as I can see
the fields they are as golden
as your love is you me.

Irena cross the ocean
Irena cross the sea.
Irena cross the water,
and never I’ll see you again.

I have for you a present
a blanket I have sewn
from all your mother’s dresses
and all the tears I’ve known.

The tales of ancient mariners
the mermaids of their dreams
the deeper blue of sorrow
are woven in its seams.

Now sleep and dream of dolphins
that leap across the waves
to amaze you and delight you
and warm your heart so brave.

Irena cross the ocean
Irena cross the sea
Irena cross the water
and never I’ll see you again.

Sleep, child, my story is told.

SLEEPING DOGS

Small town secrets
of a small town family
that everybody knows
everyone but me.

Sleeping dogs will lie in peace tonight
The wedding vows are torn to shreds
His father’s steps would haunt the corridor
But he wouldn’t hear them from his bed.

Just like two thieves in the night
the mother and her son
climbed into the Ford
and they were on the run.

Friends and family
are up in arms
recriminations fly
they’ll lose the farm.

Sleeping dogs will lie in peace tonight
The wedding vows are torn to shreds
His father’s steps would haunt the corridor
But he wouldn’t hear them from his bed.

I can hear them now
I can hear them now
I hear footsteps
I can hear them now
their voices speak to me
the wounded soldiers from a
broken history.

And these are the lands they’ve lost
the homes my family’s hands had built
so who am I to say?
is it wrong to feel this way?

They’re sleeping peacefully
the dogs are sleeping peacefully
don’t disturb the past they say
but it disturbs us every day.

Sleeping dogs will lie in peace tonight
in that old house down by the tracks
when the circle has been broken
they tell you don’t look back
they tell you don’t look back.

FREEMAN’S SONG

Where is your hometown
when your hometown is gone,
and folks that you knew
are dead or moved on.

Where is your home, boy
when the big city lights
don’t thrill you no more
in the long winter nights.

Where is your freedom
and where is your song,
when you can’t find the words to
undo what’s been done.

Where is your home, boy,
when your family’s estranged
and the words you remember
were spoken in rage.

Where is your home, boy,
where the branches are bound,
where your thoughts are collected
and your family is proud.

Where is your freedom
and where is your song,
when you can’t find the words to
undo what’s been done.

Your memory gets tangled
and you’re still on the run
the child is the father
of the prodigal son.

The grace of a stranger
is all that I ask
I have not forgotten
the sins of the past.

Where is your father
where is your son
where is your daughter
and what have you done?

Where is your freedom
and where is your song,
when you can’t find the words to
undo what’s been done.

SWEET LOUISA

Don’t walk away from me now
sweet Louisa
I swear the best is yet to come.
We haven’t been such a lucky pair
but I don’t care
I don’t care.

Unpack your bags and sit down
sweet Louisa
right next to me on the bed.
I never gave you the finer things
just a wedding ring
and a wedding vow.

You think of your sister in Chicago
driving that brand new Buick to Marshall Fields
there ain’t no glamour in Packwood, Iowa
and you deserve a better deal.

I know that life on the farm
doesn’t please ya.
I know you’d rather live in town.
The work is hard and the day is long
but if you are gone
I just can’t go on.

No other girl in the world
would believe me,
clothe and feed me
like you do.
We haven’t been such a lucky pair
but I hope you care
I hope you do.

You think of your sister in Chicago
driving that brand new Buick to Marshall Fields
there ain’t no glamour in Packwood, Iowa
and you deserve a better deal.

So wipe those tears from your eyes
sweet Louisa.
The next few words are hard to say.
I’d sell the farm so we could move away
but I hope you’ll stay
I hope you will.

Honey, I’ll take your hat

AUCTION DAY

It’s auction day today
and I just want to tell you
before they all arrive
I have never loved you more
than I do now
never ached like this before,
it’s auction day, it’s auction day
it’s auction day.

Daybreak
it’s a heartache
in a matter of moments you could lose it all.
Don’t cry
hold your head high
in a matter of moments you could lose your life.
When a dream dies
you never realize
in a matter of moments you could lose it all.
Those hard years
the bride cries bitter tears
in a matter of moments you could
sell it for the highest bid.

The longest night has been
the host of bitter dreams.
The bride was crying bitter tears
and I was sowing bitter seeds.
If not for love
I’d be down upon my knees
if not for you
I would beg for mercy please
don’t cry for me,
it’s auction day, it’s auction day
it’s auction day.

In the long run
for each and every one
in a matter of moments you could lose it all.
Now it’s our turn
to see it crash and burn
in a matter of moments you could lose your life.
If it’s God’s will
to see it end this way
in a matter of moments we could walk away.
So stand tall
and look ’em in the eye
in a matter of moments you could
show ’em what it means to have pride.

The auctioneer will strut
and bray just like an ass.
A smile is pasted on his face
but even him I will forgive.
If not for love
I’d be down upon my knees
if not for you
I would beg for mercy please
don’t look away,
it’s auction day, it’s auction day
it’s auction day.

I’ll go bring the children by our side
it’s time to stand together now
’cause if you run away
bitter dreams will hunt you down one day.
This day will pass, will fade away
will fade away.

The young men in the crowd
are looking for a deal
but I don’t blame them, not at all
in fact I know just how they feel
If not for love
I’d be down upon my knees
if not for you
I would beg for mercy please
don’t look away,
it’s auction day, it’s auction day
it’s auction day.

DOING WHAT WE CAN

Saw you standing in the doorway
holding your head down in your hands
I turned away from you, I didn’t know what to say, but
I know we’re doing, I know we’re doing
I know we’re doing what we can.

Like my father here before me
raised to be a working man
I don’t claim to have the answers, but
I know we’re doing, I know we’re doing
I know we’re doing what we can.

The trials of circumstance and business
conspired to push us off this land
you ask me what to tell the children, tell them
I know we’re doing, I know we’re doing
I know we’re doing what we can.

Seasons come and go so quickly now
and so we bow to their demands
until they wear down our resistance,
iI know we’re doing, I know we’re doing
I know we’re doing what we can.

I see her tan & slender shoulders
by the river when I told her
that I loved her so
& she was holding me so tight
yeah she was holding me so tight
you know she touched my soul.

So who am I today the man who
has no words to say to her,
if I could comfort her
I’d walk in peace
walk in peace.

If you’re standing in the doorway
holding your head down in your hands
I’ll touch your shoulder & then I’ll draw you close
I know we’re doing, I know we’re doing
I know we’re doing what we can.

SATURDAY NIGHT IN PACKWOOD

It’s Saturday night in Packwood, 1929.
My chores are done and my boots are shined
& school is out for summertime
the prettiest girl in Packwood is on my mind.

All the boys down at Packwood High
want to catch your eye
but this boy
swears he’ll treat you right.

Ooh Mary will you mother let you
out tonight?
Oh this boy
is prayin’ that she might.

Saturday night in Packwood
sweeter than the Fourth of July
and when I see that girl go by
sends a shiver right down my spine
she’s wild & fine & one day she’ll be mine.

All the boys down at Packwood High
want to catch your eye
but this boy
swears he’ll treat you right.

Ooh Mary will you mother let you
out tonight?
Oh this boy
is prayin’ that she might.

Your mama insists that all the rules of love apply
but that’s all right
maybe that means I’ve caught your eye.

There’s a string band down at the bandstand
the Rhythm Kings will play tonight
and all the girls in summer white
dance with each other in the cool moonlight
I just might declare myself tonight.

All the boys down at Packwood High
want to catch your eye
but this boy
swears he’ll treat you right.

Ooh Mary will you mother let you
out tonight?
Oh this boy
is prayin’ that she might.

MARIE LAFLEUR

Covered wagons on the prairie
wildflowers on the hill
Marie LaFleur was newly married
to a man that she called Will.

Her people came from north of Moncton
Acadian blood ran in their veins
‘til they were shipped out by the English
and not a one of them remained.

There are refugees among us
whose souls are strangers in this land
who buried all their hopes like angels
with folded wings and folded hands.

She married Will in Pennsylvania
& westward they began to roam
for wildflowers and fertile farmland
some other place she could call home.

A homestead four miles east of Packwood
wildflowers cut and dried
he was Protestant and silent
she could not cross that deep divide.

There are refugees among us
whose souls are strangers in this land
who buried all their hopes like angels
with folded wings and folded hands.

An epidemic influenza
swept like a storm throughout the state
her only daughter, she was taken
like an angel to her fate.

There was talk among the women
as small town women often will
but she was just a lonesome exile
picking flowers on the hill.

God protect the grieving mother
from the wildness of her pain
Marie La Fleur passed unprotected
how she died they don’t explain.

Her husband and her boys were silent
after the service in the town
Will took a torch to that old cabin
and burned the whole place to the ground.

Wildflowers on the prairie
headstones in the promised land
wildflowers in the springtime
like refugees to this hard land.

And there are exiles here among us
whose souls are strangers in this land
who bury all their hopes like angels
with folded wings and folded hands.

FIVE PINES

Five pines planted by the side of the road
by my great great grandfather’s hand
Five pines growing on the homestead tied us
to the Iowa land.

A white Victorian hand-built house
stood in the shaded grove
And the summer kitchen, it stood out back
to cool the women at the stove.

Five pines testified to their northern roots
that grew so dim
On the empty blue horizon
of the frontier’s western rim.

Four generations of children
grew like summer corn
Oblivious to the circumstance
into which they’re born.

Methodist women in the church sing
nearer my god to thee
Nearer to death they stand today
in careworn dignity.

But I turned my back on all of that
and moved so far away
That I didn’t give it another thought
until I came back yesterday.

And my cousins and brothers we carried the body
of my grandmother to her grave
Where she lies in the bosom of the Iowa soil
and I know that she was saved.

But me, I walk the hillside
in the prime of my 40th year
and the wind foretells a time when none
will know that we were here.

Except for names
pinscribed in stone
and five pines growing
by the side of the road.