Finding Home - cd lyrics

These are the lyrics for the songs in FINDING HOME: INDIANA AT 200,which were performed in the Indiana Repertory Theatre                                                    production from Oct. 18- November 19, 2016. They are written as they are sung in the cd of the same name.

note- all songs written by Tim Grimm- except those noted.

 

HEART LAND

They came here from the East, They came up from the South
With their hearts full of hope, and the shadows of doubt
They were farmers and lawyers, soldiers and spies
Carpenters, farriers, husbands and wives

They came here from the East, They came up from the South
With their hands in the dirt, and their heads in the clouds
Artists and teachers, Con-men and Preachers,
brewers and weavers, newsboys, believers….

Heart…..
Land….
Indiana
Indiana

On boats on the river, on foot pulling plows
horses and wagons, with their hogs and their cows
bankers and boatmen , doctors and tailors
millwrights and writers, mid-wives and jailers

Most had been born here, on this side of the sea
The first state in the union where this was to be
trappers and blacksmiths, politicians and dentists
madams and millers, Sawyers and  druggists

Heart…..
Land….
Indiana
Indiana

HOOSIER CANNONBALL


We came into this country with the risin' of the sun
We crossed the wide Ohio with Abraham Lincoln
We saw the deepest forests that ever had been seen
This land called Indiana became a state in old '16

There were bear and deer and panther and the mighty buffalo
But the people needed farmland for all their crops to grow
We cut down the ancient forests, cleared out the Indians
Made a home here in the Heartland with our hammers and our guns

We had a freedom railroad- we ran it underground
Levi Coffin and the Quakers helped the slaves to safer ground
But we also had the Copperheads and we grew the KKK
And now we have ideologues who would lead us all astray

We had the first electric lights to light a single town
You could see Warsaw, Indiana for miles all around
We grew the sweetest sweetcorn, we grew 5 vice-presidents
and depending on the outcome-- we might have 6 with Pence

We built the greatest steel mills the world has ever seen
But don't ask about the water in our rivers, lakes and streams
we burn coal to run our powerplants-- it's the cheapest energy
but the quality of the air we breathe is down to number 43.

From the banks of the Ohio to the shores of Michigan
From Richmond in the east-- and west to old Vincennes
We're the crossroads of America and we just keep rollin' on
You can close your eyes and hold your breath and 200 years are gone

So here's to Indiana-- this place we call our home
Let's take lessons from the history books and look ahead to where we're goin'
Let's celebrate our birthday with wisdom, pride and grace
And be thankful we're the Hoosier part of these United States


ERNIE PYLE (Tim Grimm & Jackson Grimm)

Born in Dana, Indiana, on a flat and windy plain,
The son of tenant farmers, he left home at 17….
He drove across the country in his ragged model A
He put his pen to paper, writing stories on the way
He talked about the city folk- country people too
when they went off to fight the war, Ernie followed suit

Miss Miller taught the 3rd grade in 1944
James Whitcomb Riley Schoolhouse where the children learned of war
Slowly and deliberately she'd read from the Gazette
Those posts from Ernie Pyle that the children won't forget
Miss Miller had a secret just behind her thoughtful eyes
She shared it without knowing-- her love for Ernie Pyle

A hero of the frontline, wherever he would go
Ernie Pyle from Indiana, writing letters back to home
He wrote about the day to day, he painted pictures clear
Giving hope to those at home for the loved ones they held dear

London with it's orange glow from German bombs at night
Ernie's wrote the headline-  "London is ringed with fire."
On a beachhead in Italy, some say Ernie might have cried
watching Captain Waskow's men bring him down the mountainside
They laid him down beside a stone wall, said a simple soldier's prayer,
We all know the story, because Ernie Pyle was there.

He was friends with General Eisenhower and Mrs. Roosevelt
but it wasn't fame, but Everyman, that Ernie loved so well
But the toil of war, the things he saw,  a glimmering of fear
Made Ernie long for something else-- of peace, and home so dear
The war was almost over, the world was almost saved
You had to be lucky to get home, Ernie wrote in his last days

A hero of the frontline, wherever he would go
Ernie Pyle from Indiana, writing letters back to home
He wrote about the day to day, he painted pictures clear
Giving hope to those at home for the loved ones they held dear

Miss Miller had the blinds drawn, she sat, quiet in her chair
Her classroom door was open….(there was) sorrow in the air
She'd take the hands of children, they knew why she cried
The only words that were spoken was a prayer for Ernie Pyle

A hero of the frontline, wherever he would go
Ernie Pyle from Indiana, writing letters back to home
He wrote about the day to day, he painted pictures clear
Giving hope to those at home for the loved ones they held dear


FIRST PEOPLE

They were Shawnee and Shoctaw, Miami, Illinois
Delaware, Maumee, Wyandots, Iroquois
Potawatomi, Erie, Kaskasa, Kickapoo
Chippewa, Winnebago…
The tribes we once knew


COVER THESE BONES

Take this earth and cover these bones
This path I walk, I walk alone
(I’ll) close my eyes but I still see
All the things you’ve done to me
I’d hoped to lie in sacred ground
Feel the sun come shining down
Hold the wings of a holy bird
(And) circle round this piece of earth
Your people came a few at first
With guns in hand in woven shirts
Around the fire we smoked the pipe
You gave us whiskey, we gave you wives
You cut the trees, the trees did die
You built the road for wagons wide
You taught us how to live inside
You told us all why Jesus died
Cover our bones with homes and towns
This land we held as sacred ground
We had enough for all we wanted
Now we’re ghosts, the walking haunted
Cover these bones, our people cry
Cover these bones, our stories die
Cover these bones, cover these bones

Cover these bones with waves of grass
Cover these bones with seeds that last
Tell our stories once we’re gone
Indiana Indians

 

THE BALLAD OF WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON- (Jan Lucas and Tim Grimm)

I came from old Virgin-i-ay from a family bold and strong
and when we fell on hard times I turned my life around
I joined up in the army at the young age of eighteen
Headed west to do my best for God and my country
I'm William Henry Harrison, I rode into native land
with gifts and guns and whisky, I gave from my own hands
I told them of the power of our young United States
and the President- their Father- whose strength and might were great
Drink up you noble chiefs, I said- sign treaties for this land
and soon millions of acres were firmly in my hands
Then down the Wabash river came Tecumseh and his men
We met under the walnut trees on the river at Vincennes
I faced this might warrior- best I'd ever seen
His words they flew like arrows, that pierced their way through me
I could not hold my anger, kept up and raised my sword
He called me thief and liar- I'd curse him evermore
I knew Tecumseh's brilliance, I knew his sights were keen
I knew he posed a danger far beyond what we could see
Unite the tribes he counseled, in the north and south and west
By God, if he'd unite them all-- I feared what would come next
I marched my men to Prophetstown when Tecumseh was away
Burned his village to the ground, shattered hope along the way
It was a shining victory, the beginning of the end
This land is for Americans- not Brits or Indians
Tecumseh died in battle, yet no one saw him fall
Without his strength and vision they lost their homeland and the cause
So saddle up my milk white steed on this cold and rainy day
I'll take the oath in Washington and I have much to say
Tippecanoe and Tyler too, and I'll be on my way

 

INDIANA

You go into these woods, you may never come out
there's a whole lot of trouble just waitin' around
beasts on your left, war on your right
and it seems like the day is the darkest of nights

indiana, this is my home
where the bear and the hawk and the indians roam
sweet sister moon and dear brother sun
watch over these forests and keep them from harm

they're building a village, there's smoke in the air
the river is rising not too far from here
my people they fear what they don't understand
and i pray for the future of this sacred land

indiana, this is my home
where the bear and the hawk and the indians roam
sweet sister moon and dear brother sun
watch over these forests and keep them from harm

i wander these forests in daylight and dreams
at night i have visions of what might come to be
there are towns full of people and buildings so high
the rivers run dark, there's more smoke in the sky

the bears have moved north, the hawks on the wing
and i don't hear the voices of indians sing
my heart hears the wild things, there's no turning back
I'll try and protect them as long as I can

indiana, this is my home
where the bear and the hawk and the indians roam
sweet sister moon and dear brother sun
watch over these forests and keep them from harm


SWEET CORN SWING - (Jan Lucas & Jackson Grimm)

Welllll…..

There ain't nothin' better'n Indiana sweet corn
Some states disagree but frankly they're wrong
That ain't a boast, just a fact
Thea ratings are in and you can check the stats
We got the sweetest sweet corm in the world and that's that

We got tomatoes: Romas, Pink Brandywine
Cherokee Purple, little cherries on the vine
Pick 'em fresh on a hot summer day
You'll feel all your cares just fade away
We go the the tastiest tomatoes you could ever find

Paw-paws, persimmons and pumpkins too
Musk-melons grow here and berries so blue
And as for popcorn, we're famous- who knew ?
In all of the nation we're number two….

Tenderloin sandwich as big as your head
Onion and pickle two slices of bread
Fried or grilled, you can choose
Psssh, you ain't got nothin' to lose
Our tenderloin'll take away all of your blues

You may have heard that officially there's no state food
You find this curious but don't want to be rude
Alas, there's no reason to sigh:
Indiana has a state PIE !
Sugar Creme is the name and it's heaven, my my !

-recipe-

You know we love our biscuits so fluffy and light
Soakin' up the gravy, they're quite a delight
They mad the baking powder, right up in Terre Haute
Called it Clabber Girl and that's all she wrote…
The most heavenly biscuits that you ever did know !

You've heard all about our delicacies
From the hollers to the halls of high cuisine
In case you haven't heard, we love to eat
Indiana food just can't be beat

So tuck in your napkin, pull up a chair
There's a feast to be had, we love to share
There's always enough, bring the family
Cousin Elmer, Uncle Jack, and your great Aunt Be a
Welcome to Hoosier Hospitality !


DEER LICK CREEK

Late winter 1824, the Falls at Deer Lick Creek
Seven men in buckskin had been drinkin' for a week
No white man in these 19 states had ever yet been hung
by Judge or jury for the crime of killing Indians
Indians, Indians
This place called Indiana means the land of the Indians

Chief Logan had a roving band-- just 2 braves and 3 women
Seneca and Shawnee and their 4 barefooted children
They crossed in from Ohio in the dimming light of day
The forest heard the eagle cry, then rise and fly away
Fly away, fly away
The forest heard the eagle cry,
then rise and fly away

It was somethin' 'bout the horses-- if they were lost or they'd been stole
It was something about Chief Logan's tribe - made the drunken men so bold
The days were getting' longer as the game was getting' scarce
Tired of chasin' white men's promises they were looking' for some rest
For some rest, for some rest
Tired of chasin' white man's promises
and looking' for some rest

Seven men in buckskin with nothin' much to fear
They said that to kill an Indian was no worse than to kill a deer
With murder in their hearts, their rifles full of lead
they shot them all and left the chief beside the cold creek bed
Cold creek bed, cold creek bed
they left the old chief lyin beside the old creek bed

In a log cabin courtroom just off the Strawtown Trace
They said enough to genocide-- at least they did that day
We forget the names and faces of the killed and the accused
And the reasons for injustice and the simple light  of truth
Light of truth. light of truth
200 years we hope to see the simple light of truth

There's a sign outside a' Pendleton
saying' 3 white men here were hung
The first time in America-- for killin' Indians

IMMIGRANTS

There were people of color who walked a hard road
Fighting for justice and for Truth to be told
Others spoke German, Italian and French,
Swedish and Yiddish, Russian and Dutch.
They came here for all reasons
In all years and all seasons
Searching for meaning.
Finding home, finding freedom.

JAG TANKER STANNA

She held a roll of linen in her hand
It held the seeds her Father had saved for the new land
The breezes they were blown' and the ship was set to sail
Her new husband by her side, for America
Her Mother held her hand up to her heart and the other to her face
When she knew the tears would start
She said dreams are sometimes promises you keep inside a jar
And other times you hold them in your heart

Jag Tanker Stanna, Jag Tanker Stanna
Take us in your heart to America

Westward ho as soon as they touched land
They must have thought if they kept goin' they'd end up home again
The breezes they were blown' and they build a small sod house
They'd finally stopped somewhere in western Kansas
She was cleaning house and sea a big black snake
It was stretched across the bed, it was more than she could take
She killed it there and then, cried Olaf- come in !
She said, we move, they packed and headed east again

Jag Tanker Stanna, Jag Tanker Stanna
Take us in your heart to America

The seeds had found their way inside a jar
They'd travelled many miles but they didn't know how far
They'd been blown by prairie winds and dark Midwestern storms
Searchin' for a home away from home
Sunrise moved across an open field
It was nothin' they could see it was somthin' they could feel
The breezes they were blown' and they stood side by side
And her hand opened the jar in Indiana

Jag Tanker Stanna, Jag Tanker Stanna
I'll be staying here in Indiana
Jag Tanker Stanna, Jag Tanker Stanna
I'll be staying here in Indiana

 

Indy 500- (Jan Lucas & Tim Grimm)

Around and around and around and around and around
Around and around and around and around and around
Till the black and white checkered flag goes down
They go round and around and around and around and around
200 laps, 500 miles
Pack yourself a picnic plan to stay awhile
They go round and around and around and around and around
You might go to England, you might go to France
Australia or Brazil or the Netherlands
Just say Indiana and folks recognize
The greatest car race in the whole wide world's eyes
It's the kinda thing you gotta do one time
Put yourself into a Hoosier state of mind
They sell a million hot dogs, they sell a million brats
They sell gallons of beer and everybody'd hot
Sittin' in the infield, baking' in the sun
The noise and fumes are all part of the fun
They go round and around and around and around and around
You might be in the snake pit, you might be in turn three
You might be hang in' round gasoline alley
It used to be a track made of a million bricks
some drivers come from the cities, some come from the sticks
They sing Back Home Again in Indiana as it begins
Hey, that's Gomer Pyle, listen to him
The winner chugs a glass of milk and then the whole thing ends
They go round and around and around and around again
ONe hundred times this race has been run
One hundred times that flag has gone down
One hundred times a driver won the chase
A million dollar smile on somebody's face
Now raise you hands if you've been there once
Now clap your hands if you've been there a bunch
Now you know the reasons from A to Z
The Indy 500 is the place to be



HEART LAND- reprise

Where will we go now after 200 years...
guided by wisdom or driven by fear ?
Will our eyes open wider, will our hearts follow suit ?
Can we carry the old dreams and make room for the new?

Will we see that the future, is educating our youth            

with history and science, and respect for the truth
a love for the wild things, the arts and fair play
May the heart of the heartland beat louder each day

Heart..... Land.... Indiana Indiana

Heart..... Land.... Indiana Indiana

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