• Janet Skorodinsky 305 Strand Street Santa Monica, California 396-2037 -~- . - 12 songs recorded at 3-3/4 words and mus1o by Jan Skorodinsky ORDER OF TAPE l. THE SHOW 2. .ABIWAl - SLEEP WARM 3· LAf!l DAY 4. ENGLISH COUNTRY GARDEN 5. ROME IS HERE 6. -VAST 7• A SONG OF SEASONS 8. .AIO!HER NOEL 9 • l]lES!IOBS. 10. LITTLE BIRD ll. ~HE CIRCUS 12 • A WALK l)OWN fER S ( I·. t~~ ~rJ1'f 4 j ~me and play your pretty little violin for me. ,i · I will find my toeshoes and a yellow rosary te de. We will open up the curtains and the windows too and give a show 1-re two! You will stand upon the kitchen chair and sweetly play. I will do a curtsy and a funny little tour-je-taix. I will keep on spinning-inning all around the room - and schottische with - the bristly bvoom. All the snoopy tourists who visit in the spring they will come and sit along the curb and gaily sing - te ding. And the people living-iving up and dovm the street - will bring a snack - to eat. And soon everyone will be dancing - and amm~ing this little refrain. And the lady won't think to be asking his serial number or name - oh no! - -his social security claim -- oh no! the color or size of his frame - oh no! or why just the hell he came - who could care? when the music and shiny moonlight fill the air? Zing- etc. (continues) 2 the show Come and play your pretty little violin for me. I will find my toeshoes and a yellow rosa~y te de. We will shut up all the curtains and the windows too -- to say our shov-r is through. Goodnight. Adieu. end. copyright 19/~-;(~ ANYWAY - SLEEP WARM. I've stood before you naked in my sacred pool of tears - walked the slender valleys of your trust. Somehow I've been beside you through your childhood years - I watched the little soldier turn to rust. I know the color of your eyes from the inside out - and I have felt the trembling of your hand. And even though these separate roads seem strewn with doubt - I want you to know- I 1 d like to try and understand -- CHO. ---why I am more lonely being with you - than I seem to be when we're apart. Maybe - it's because just being with you doesn't let me in your heart. And as I look around the room - I cry to see the boxed-up remnants pressed against the door and know that to this place - they're all that's left of me - and then I wonder - what I'm leaving for. Maybe the loving sounds - the joy and tears - are buried somewhere deep within the wood. And if some night you lie awake and chance to hear - maybe you'll remember it was good. Why am I more lonely being with you - than I seem to be when we're apart? Maybe it's because just being with you doesn't let me in your heart. (continues) 2 - Anyway sl~~p warm I've stood before you naked in my sacred pool of tears - walked the slender valleys of your trust. Somehow I've been beside you through your childhood years - I watched the little soldier turn to rust. I know the color of your eyes from the inside out - and I have felt the trembling of your hand. And honey - though these separate roads seem strewn with doubt I guess I hope they'll help us understand -- CHO why I am more lonely being with you - than I seem to~be when we're apart. Maybe - it's because just being with you doesn't let me in your heart. Anyww.yr­ Sleep warm. end LAZY DAY Lazy day- and it isn't even May! February yaps at my heels. I tell it,'~et away- Come back some winter day. Go whistle. :Pick a thistle! 1 I don't care - there's summer in the air. I can smell it baking the grass. The rain from yesterday - spit and polished up today - Not complaining -. Daisy chaining. I suppose it's only in my nose. 01' groundhog went right on back to sleep. How can he sleep away this ripe watermelon day? Saspirilly! He's a silly! La de dum , etc. end ENGLISH COUNTRY GARDEN How many kinds of sweet flowers grow - in an English Country Garden? I'll tell you now of some that I know - -. Come my love - we will dance across the floor - Snowing off the new faces that we wore. CHO. - We are dancing a pretty minuet while the music-box plays a waltz. One - two - three. One - two - three. Crossword people - who look away from you - Verbal junkyards that clutter up my view. CHO. Pasteboard postmen who hand above the street. Funeral riders - who offer me their seat. Antique babies - who never learned to die. Ice cream faces that melt beneath a sigh. CHO. Handcuff handshake you give me every spring • Do you think I would try to steal your ring? OHO. Starched white apron you tie around your heart. Neon streetsigns that show me where to start. CHO. --- In an English Country Garden. end HOJYIE IS HERE Home is here love - - home is here. Here where you rest - Here on my breast. Still your fear love -- home is here. Room of my arms shelter from harm. Wooden walls - welded with finest care - crumble in time and fall -- leaving you bare. But my heart -- fashioned of beating loam -- even when we must part offers you home. Home is here love -- home is here. Whither you roam - you will be home. end Just today -- deep in the warm of a summertime beach -- three small boys and I lay within arms reach of each down on our bare bellies in the sand. We lifted it - and sifted it by hand - through part spread fingers .... watched it as it fell. And cried 'Oh See' at what remained unsifted. a brokeri bit of mussel shell -- a sun-dried string of ocean grass a spindle branch of driftwood - drifted - sanded glass - -. We tagged in single file then -- dom1 truck tire tracks - down to the sea. We stood at last in the wet - and let the sand suck our feet. Then we went wandering - weaving in and out along the scalloped edge of water line - I traced it with a stick. ~ en about six feet etched - V\ a wave strode in and wiped out mine! continues) 2 vast Then it occurred to me this shallow ledge - - this is the hem-edge of the sea! the lacey part surrounding all that wide and deep. -- Silly me! Silly me! To even fancy it might keep -- my sketchy small rea tining w·all. end copyright 1;;~ /(~~ A ~ONG OF SEASONS La de de de de dum. Rock season -- tree season. lv.Line a little weaker. Love season -- hate season. Iviine a little meeker. Laugh season -- cry season. Mine -- a little stronger. Leaf season -- bird season. Mine a little longer. But today is summertime - and the willowy branches rustle green taffeta and take their chances - walking on the gusty arms of their windy lovers. Sipping sunlight - gold and warm - while the cloud birds hover. No longer remembering - so drugged with pleasure - that the lustful fall the first in the autumn weather. La de de de de dum. (continues) 2 a song of seasons It is only in the night when the sun is sleeping - do I feel them trembling do I hear them weeping. Cho. la de de de de dum. end. .ANOTHER NOEL CHORUS Noel - noel - noel noel - Noel. Driftwood people on the Strand - Sifted throughtthe shifting sand - ·~-vearing beads and fraying tassels - Kings and queens of fallen castles. Pretty salt and pepper faces spicing up the tasteless places waiting for the Christmas bells to ring. Oho Children blow their bubble hours - butterflies that have no flowers - hungry for a crust of bread and given caviar instead. Little girls still fashion sashes out of silver bowls of ashes waiting for the Christmas bells to ring. CHO c:- Hear the pleading pebble tears beat against the iron ears. Trim the Christmas tree with sod -- He was young - and he was god -- (continues) 2 another noel - -Dead on someone elses mud -- lying in his wasted blood waiting for the Christmas bells to ring. --Oho. Amen. end copyright /~ .7( QUESTIONS Why can't I look around the bend - and see you coming and know you come for me? And if I could - what would I really see? Why can't I put a seed into the ground - and know for certain - it would gro-vrl And if I could - what would I really kno-vr? CHO. When all I have to shelter me - this tattered thread-bare canopy that cannot even keep away the rain. And sometimes - "t·rhen the soft embracing comfort arms return again - I must admit - I 1 m vfai ting for the pain - -----~-~o start again. Why can 1 t I wear the winter fur and simply change to gingham as the seasons turn7 And if I could - what would I really learn'l continues 2 questions Wby can't I take the wild-flower from your hand and not remember it must die? And if I could - would it really be a lie? CHO. --- To start again When all my tears were over dragon-flies - and lightning skies and mothers'lies.