Song list on garageband.com:

• The Dew Drop Inn Song
• Harrisburg March
• Transfiguration (The Ballad of Bombing Nineteen)
• Brune2Prune
• Allison

The Dew Drop Inn Song

(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson)

I was leavin' Fairfield heading t'ward the west 
And I took a left turn off of thirty-four; 
Didn't know 'bout ninety-eight, but needed rest, 
And I hoped that something good would be in store. 

Found a town a couple miles on down the road; 
City limit sign said Libertyville. 
Saw a tavern sign that said their beer was cold, 
And I said, "I've got the time; I think I will", 

So I dropped on in to the Dew Drop Inn 
For dancing, food and beer. 
You'll fit right in at the Dew Drop Inn; 
You're always welcome here. 

Got a cold one from the tap, said "This is livin'!" 
My, that beer was mighty tasty, cold and wet! 
Oh, I know it's Iowa, this isn't Heaven, 
But the Dew Drop may be close as you can get, 

So just drop on in to the Dew Drop Inn 
For dancing, food and beer. 
You'll fit right in at the Dew Drop Inn; 
You're always welcome here. 

Want a place with more than veggies on their pizzas? 
Just leave Fairfield for a while, we're not too far. 
For a face that's fairer than the Maharishi's, 
Meet our gracious hostess, Karla Kinney Carr, 

And please do drop in to the Dew Drop Inn 
For dancing, food and beer. 
You'll fit right in at the Dew Drop Inn; 
You're always welcome here. 

And please do drop in to the Dew Drop Inn 
For dancing, food and beer. 
You'll fit right in at the Dew Drop Inn; 
You're always welcome here. 

You're always welcome here at the Dew Drop Inn! 

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Harrisburg March

(lyrics by Hugh Emerson; music by Hugh and Kathy Emerson)

Harrisburg! Harrisburg! 
Harrisburg's the fairest burg. 
It's home to me; 
The place to be: 
Harrisburg, my home. 

Harrisburg! Harrisburg! 
Harrisburg's the fairest burg. 
It's home to me; 
The place to be: 
Harrisburg, my home. 

And it's the best city; 
It's my city. 
There's no place I'd rather be. 
These are the best people; 
They're my people. 
I love them, and they love me. 

So, in the best city, with these people, there's cause enough to be proud. 
Cheer, cheer for Harrisburg; you never can be too loud! 

Hip, hip, hooray for my favorite place! 
We think it's best, and we'll make the case. 
There's no finer city than Harrisburg, 
And that's why we call it "fairest burg". 
We're proud to be among the elite; 
We've set a standard no one can beat, 
And though it's a goal others try to meet, 
They're headed for sure defeat. 

This is the best city; 
It's my city. 
There's no place I'd rather be. 
And these are my people; 
The best people. 
I love them, and they love me. 

So, if you need reasons, I gave reasons. What better ones could I give? 
Cheer, cheer for Harrisburg; there's no finer place to live! 

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Transfiguration (The Ballad of Bombing Nineteen)

(lyrics by George H. Bowen, music by Hugh Emerson) 

Though God's angels are appointed, 
Sometimes mortals are anointed 
After complicated training which takes years; 
And they earn their rightful places 
With the blessings of God's graces, 
And earn hierarchal ranking with their peers. 
Found among those chosen few 
Are the pilots and their crew 
Who are carrier-based and fly both night and day; 
Whether early-warning defense 
Or as vanguard of the offense, 
They're prepared to meet the challenge either way. 
First the fifty states are covered 
And the candidates discovered 
In both cities, towns, and on the fruited plains; 
And their preparation's started 
When their parents have imparted 
A sense of personal honor to their brains. 
And commitment daily sought 
Is a rite that they are taught 
When the rugged strands of duty first are spun; 
Then the Navy has a way 
To refine these lumps of clay 
And re-refine them 'til the job is done. 

Warfare hasn't any season, 
And its underlying reason 
Is to take by force or hold in self-defense. 
Most combatants in such frays 
Often show in countless ways 
Valor far beyond the bounds of common sense; 
Whether enemy or friend, 
The main message they all send 
Is that courage is the coinage of the game. 
Looking back at World War Two, 
Of the very brave who flew, 
Bombing Nineteen was a bearer of the flame. 
They were better than the best-- 
Sank more tonnage than the rest 
Of all the carrier groups who ranged the ocean; 
And although they never knew, 
God anointed these bold few 
For duty, dedication and devotion. 
Though their temporary host 
Was the carrier "Blue Ghost", 
(Often claimed as sunk by cryptic Tokyo Rose), 
Off they flew in Furies' face, 
And some died without a trace, 
Yet these warriors broke the foe with mortal blows. 

So be heartened when you see 
Giant thunderheads at sea, 
Which are pillars of support for Heaven's floor; 
Bombing Nineteen's missing mates 
Fly above Saint Peter's gates 
With wings of honor forged by flames of war. 

Brune2Prune

I got a dog named Bruno
Sometimes I call him Brune.
I gotta trim his toenails
You know I got a Brune to prune.

Brune to prune, talkin' Brune to prune.

And on this dog named Bruno
Sometimes his fur's too long.
I gotta make it shorter
You know I got a Brune to prune.

Brune Prune, Brune to prune, talkin' Brune to prune.

This funny dog named Bruno
I think his tongue's too big.
I'd like to make it smaller,
But that's not something I can prune.

No Brune to prune, talkin' Brune to prune.

Allison

Lyrics by Andrew Cox

Teach your Mac to sing -- get VocalWriter!

Other Albums

• Depressed
• Born Again
• Requiem
• A Counterpoint Christmas