Scroll down for Rosetta Pebble lyrics.
01. From Now On.
Could you be my morning?
Could you be my favorite song?
Could you be my one thing right?
When everything is wrong?
Could you be my evening?
Could you be my midnight sun?
Could you be my thousand dreams?
Made real and folded into one?
From now on. From now on.
the dream plays on sweeter than the song.
From now on.
02. Here I Am.
Under the stars I stop to smile.
Kind of a trick the way the sky will
bring itself back from bible-black to blue.
None of them really goes away
But often in what we call “the day”
they’re outshined by one we’re closer to.
Here I am.
I’m right here, right now, right where I should be.
Right here, right now, right out where you can see.
Watching the darkness slowly deepen.
Hours away the dawn will creep in.
Maybe the light of day might help me see
All the mistakes that I’ve been making,
all the less traveled roads I’ve taken.
Haven’t they brought me where I’m supposed to be?
Here I am.
I’m right here, right now, right where I should be.
Right here, right now, right out where you can see.
Took a tumble, but I landed on my feet
and my bubble hasn’t burst.
In the game of life I really don’t compete.
Someone else can finish first.
Here I am.
I’m right here, right now, right where I should be.
Right here, right now, right out where you can see.
03. Another Place’s Rain.
Oh the cloud let go on the music show on a song that everyone knows.
Bye, bye, Miss American Pie.
Watch ‘em run for the roof to get dry, but not you and I.
I’m thinking of days when I’ve known the rain.
How it came down calling on, falling on me.
Call it home by another name.
Soaked to the bone again
I’m lost in the moment when I’m there to taste another place’s rain.
(A long, long, long, time ago)
I’m walking to school in a yellow rubber coat and a pair of galoshes to boot.
Hop over a puddle like a castle moat.
Try floating a dandelion boat.
Tiny sun shining on a shallow sea while the sky keeps falling on me.
That’s when I felt it first.
Sympathy in a wild cloud burst.
Seemed like nothing else could ease my thirst quite like the taste of another place’s rain.
Under an umbrella back in Germany it’s my old best buddy and me.
A couple of thumbs on an Autobahn run trying to get to London for free.
Watching all of Germany drive on by.
Backseats looking warm and dry.
Windshield wipers waving hello, hello, and hello…
Goodbye to a time and place.
A younger heart and a younger face turned to the sky to find some grace
and just to taste another place’s rain.
Rain, rain, go away, or stay, I can take it either way.
And it stoned me to my soul.
Stoned me just like jelly roll, and it stoned me.
And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like goin’ home, and it stoned me.
I want to know, have you never seen the rain?
04. Deeper Water.
Beside the shore, with all her pictures from before,
she scatters them among the stars.
They float along like words that sail upon a song.
then fade to blue for evermore.
She sees the round moon rise both in the sea and in the sky.
As full as Sorrow’s favorite daughter.
And as the daylight dies, and evening softens in her eyes,
she’s back where all goodbyes have brought her.
Watching, waiting, holding on.
Having lived enough to know that there is deeper water there…
Across the bay, he leaves his canvas for the day.
Another sunset standing still.
He wants to make it shine like that bright ball on the horizon line
that sinks and brings him down with it until
he sees the round moon rise both in the sea and in the sky,
as full as Sorrow’s favorite son.
Walking on he tries, but walking on cannot disguise
that another night has just begun.
Watching, waiting, holding on,
having lived enough to know that there is deeper water there…
Along the way, two people closing out the day.
A smile can be the sweetest stranger.
They see the round moon rise.
05. One More Wave.
Down here on my knees, disintegrating by degrees,
one more wave might be the one that takes me.
Out to sea once more, I’m an eddy in a steady storm.
One more wave might be the one that wakes me.
One more wave.
In up to my neck, shackled to a sinking wreck,
one more wave might be the one that takes me.
Down into the deep, like a promise I could never keep,
one more wave might be the one that breaks me.
I know what you said. It’s all in my head,
but were the semantics or the antics simply misinterpreted?
One more wave.
In over my head, how much longer can I tread?
One more wave might be the one that takes me
back up on the shore- the same sandy steps that I made before.
One more wave might be the one that wakes me.
I know what you said. It’s all in my head,
but were the semantics or the antics simply misinterpreted?
One more wave.
06 Knuckle Boy.
School kids staring out a window, warm May morning, long ago.
Daydreams blowin’ on the breezes, summer’s teasing undertow.
Teacher calls out for attention, brand-new student, all heads rise.
It’s a double-jointed knuckle boy, and his bear with a jacket-button eye.
Everyone has a story and a story is sometimes no more than
just the pictures that you keep in your mind.
Everybody’s a story and a story is sometimes no more than just a picture inside.
I guess I’ll never really know just how he made his knuckles go.
A double-jointed knuckle show it was a recess parking lot surprise.
The double-jointed knuckle boy and his bear with the jacket button eye.
Baseball sunny afternoon, all day freedom, end of June.
All the neighbor kids are there with abandoned shirts and abandoned care.
Look who’s heading out to right field, bright red wagon right behind.
It’s the double-jointed knuckle boy, and that bear with the jacket button eye.
One bright swollen morning, not a word of warning, a moving van pulls into a drive.
Clanky gear-shift sound, window rolling down, one small hand is waving goodbye.
Goodbye. Summer days begin to fade, and soon the school bell sings again.
Push your legs into your long pants, squirm against the regimen.
Faces settle into place, and solemnly all realize.
No double-jointed knuckle boy, no bear with the jacket button eye.
Now I’ve seen my share of classrooms, seen my share of days gone by.
Seen a million different faces, seen some brilliant moments die.
But who’s that knocking on my memory from the porch steps of my mind?
Never fading, never changing, always ageless, always spry.
On the ready out in right field, sprung to catch one on the fly.
The reappearing knuckle boy
And that bear with the jacket button eye.
07.The Way The Day Goes By.
Morning sun, she sails across the sky
Watch the way the day goes by.
Afternoon, a sailing song that hopes to find a tune
It will soon
Watch the way the day goes by
What’s ahead and all that’s behind
We are sailing off on compass points in time
You have been my truest friend
Since we left the shores of darkness
And we sail until the darkness comes again
Evening comes.
A sunset song that sinks into a hum
It says to me: Watch the way the day goes by.
08. Summer’s Mine.
I’m sitting in my favorite chair
I’ve got my coffee, I’ve got time, and baby I don’t care
Just like a shadow on a summer day
I can be right there when you want me, and I won’t get in the way
I think it might be half past June
I haven’t seen a calendar for days, but come and look at the moon
My wrists are naked but I’ve got the time.
I’ll never be a millionaire, but I know summer’s mine
And it’s not about the money
I’m grateful for the days that I’m given when it’s sunny
I’ve got all this all this time, and that’s the greatest pay
in oh so many ways.
What ever happened to July?
I can feel September in these shadows and August slipping by
But as I labor through my winter days, waiting for the sun to shine
It puts a spring in my step.
I know summer’s mine.
09. Future Tense.
She can talk to angels. She can see the signs.
That’s the way she is.
She can hear the spirits whisper in the pines.
Echoes I might miss.
She shows me her crystal ball, but I’m still on the fence.
If I let my present pass, I wonder will she make my future tense?
She says I’m a young soul. She’s been here before.
I don’t understand.
She says I’m a cynic; slamming open doors in her spirit clan.
They find magic everywhere except in my defense.
If I let my present pass, I wonder will she make my future tense?
Something makes me nervous about I becoming we,
and something makes me nervous about us replacing me.
Pronouns and dependent clauses; whys and wheres and whens.
If I let my present pass, I wonder will she make my future tense?
10. Doesn’t Help Me.
Sometimes I get tired, and sometimes I get so mixed-up.
Sometimes I get wired, and sometimes the coffee in my cup doesn’t help me.
Sometimes I get wild, and sometimes I get so bogged down.
Sometimes I get childish. Sometimes pretending I’m the clown doesn’t help me.
And as we head into the Fall I slip away and play.
The writing’s on the wall.
Sometimes I feel stranded, and sometimes I feel so scot-free.
Sometimes I feel branded, and sometimes this anonymity doesn’t help me.
Sometimes I feel biased, and sometimes I feel so naïve.
Sometimes I feel pious, and sometimes that kind of make-believe doesn’t help me.
And as we head into the fall I slip away and play.
The writing’s on the wall
11. Much to my Surprise
Much to my surprise, I came upon some truth right behind my eyes.
It could happen to you.
Sunday morning rain; Sunday evening sun;
Monday morning train; New journey begun.
Time set aside, I’m no longer waiting for something else to show,
for something else to know... Other than this.
There’s a story told, hear it on the wind.
The beggar on a box of gold is finally looking within.
Sunlight on these silver rails through the city sound asleep.
“Here and now,” hear the whistle blow.
“Here and now,” on into the flow.
Here and now is all we ever know.
Much to my surprise I came upon some truth,
right behind my eyes. It could happen to you.
12. When I Write My Song For You.
When I write my song for you, it’ll come along so easy and so true.
When I write my song for you, it just might be the best I ever do.
When I write my song for you, I’m gonna hear it in my heart before my fingers ever find it.
When I write my song for you, it may never make a penny, but I don’t think that you’ll mind it.
It will say how you finally found me.
It will say how your days turn around me.
It will say how your world now surrounds me. Oh, it’s true.
When I write my song for you.
When at last this dream comes true, we’ll be stepping over clouds; there’ll be no reason for a sidewalk.
When at last this dream comes through, we will gather all the gold; we won’t even need a beanstalk.
It’s the way that I finally found you. It’s the way that my days turn around you.
It’s the way that my world now surrounds you. Oh, it’s true.
When I write my song for you.
Long, lonesome day, be on your way now, you’ve had your say.
Long, lonesome night, it’s time to know that everything is all right.
When I write my song for you, it’ll jiggle with your rhythm and your rhyme.
When I write my song for you, it’ll warm you like a dream of summertime.
It will say how you finally found me. It will say how your days turn around me.
It will say how this whole thing still astounds me . Oh, it’s true.
When I write my song for you.
13. Things.
I never use this pen; it was a present from a friend,
but we don’t write each other anymore.
Postcards in a box, beneath some old photographs and socks,
were written with it many years before.
But now the big things have become little things.
I never wear this ring, it’s just a trinket from a fling.
The shine wore of so many years ago.
Symbols on the shank have worn away and left a blank.
The emptiness is sweetly apropos.
Because the big things have become little things.
It’s never easy starting over.
Strangers are so seldom what they seem.
I’m finding out as I grow older-
memories will tarnish when you hold on to the wrong part of the dream.
The big things have become little things and the little things they don’t matter.
And we let them slide.
14. Go!
You can count on me when you find your way back home.
That’s a guarantee. When you’re tired and all alone,
stay as long as you like, and when you’re ready to leave... go!
If you want to wander, if you want to roam.
If you trust the wanderlust, the world will be your home.
When you want to vanish or want to disappear,
grab your pack and don’t look back, and while the coast is clear... go!
Get out while you can, baby. Go!
You can count on me, because you know I’ve been there too,
and to some degree, my mistakes can be your clues.
Stay as long as you like and when you’re ready to leave... go!
©2005 steven gulian/ rosetta pebble
15. Wobbly on the Wire.
Coming down again to see you.
Coming down again today.
Coming down again to be with you.
Coming down to find away.
Well, it seems to me this dream could be
the story of a lifetime.
Oh, following the fire.
With a feeling in my bones
that I’m surrounded but still all alone.
It makes me wobbly on the wire.
Coming down to face the music.
Coming down around the bend.
Coming down to take my chances.
Coming down to find a friend.
If I had blinded eyes and ears of tin,
and bandages to seal my skin,
nothing would get in.
But to burn inside a frozen fire
of this unspoken soul’s desire.
makes me wobbly on the wire.
16. Halfway Home
Halfway home or so, he hears a song he used to know
an echo from a life he’s left behind.
An exit ramp rolls into sight; he starts to drift from left to right,
but as he sings he doesn’t see the signs.
He never takes that exit in the daylight.
Halfway home is no place he belongs,
and if he thought about it, he’d just drive on by.
But halfway home he fell into a song.
Upon that old familiar street whose memories are bittersweet,
the gravel crunches underneath his tread.
A television casting light; two silhouettes enjoy the night-
a broken record spinning in his head.
It’s a mark he can’t erase, like a step he can’t retrace
Or comment better left unsaid
like a lesson never learned on a bridge he’s better burn
it’s a letter better left unread.
A song can take us far away and then pull us back when we’re astray.
Music has a gravity its own.
Back upon the interstate he calls to say he’s running late.
The music stops; the engine sings alone.
He never takes that exit in the daylight.
Halfway home is no place he belongs,
and if he thought about it, he’d just drive on by.
But halfway home he fell into a song.
17. I Love Her.
Here I am, trying to be a man.
Trying to make the most of a losing hand.
I love her.
I love her because her disarming smile shuts my defenses down.
She's not afraid to walk a mile, or sleep on the ground
She's forgiven me my inability or unwillingness to just grow up
and be a full-time adult with a coffee cup.
Because when the going's rough, she laughs just like my dad,
and knows how to spread a smile when folks are feeling sad.
I love her.
18. Away
Out of circulation. Out across the lake
Blessed isolation. Was it hard to break away?
Were the frozen waters just icing on your cake?
Nothing lasts forever. Was it hard to take away?
Finding birthday candles in the Northern Lights
When it came to wishing, did you get it right away?
Out of circulation did it slip your mind?
If it ever hits you, tell me if you find a way.
19. You’re All I See.
You’re all I see.
You’re everything to me.
Let all the rest of it be.
You’re all I see.
The world and all of its ways...
the dusty gunflint days...
have all but faded away
each time I seem to hear you say
you’re all I see,
you’re everything to me.
Let all the rest of it be.
You’re all I see.
Another day, another start,
sometimes it’s hard to pull ourselves apart.
We’re off and running patterns in the plan.
But when the work is done, the evening comes,
the daytime race is run.
I’d trade it all in just to hold your hand.
You’re all I see, you’re everything to me.
Let all the rest of it be. You’re all I see.
Let’s take a leave from the light
And all the many-colored dreams we’re chasing.
Haven’t reached them all yet…still might
And all the wrong we hope will turn out right
is on its own tonight.
20. Where Do We Go From Here?
You may remake the map of your world.
Check all these shells for pearls, but where do we go from here?
And you might try the sky for a sign.
Unwind these ties that bind, but where do we go from here?
Or you might open your eyes
and you might find that all this time your song ran deep inside
while you were treading water on an ocean that you made in your mind.
And you might feel the tug of the war,
with all the ghosts that came before.
Where do we go from here?
You watch the waves break onto your shore
and let them roll to sea once more.
Where do we go from here?
And you might open your eyes
and you might find that all this time your song ran deep inside
while you were treading water on an ocean that you made in your mind.
We might open our eyes and we might hear our own songs rise.
Hearts starting up their tunes again.
Hearts starting up their music.
When we find that we’ve been blind
and walk across the waters of the oceans that we make in our minds.
And as I stand and stare at the sea,
I feel you rolling back to me.
Where do we go from here?
New CD in the works! Click here for more info.
Apple's iTunes Music Store, YahooMusic , Napster, and several other digital music download sites. This is all thanks to Mr. Derek Silvers, the coolest music exec you'll ever meet. In addition to helping us sell CDs all over the world (through his CDBaby.com site), he's helped get our music distributed digitally. It's always tickles us when the monthly stats come out, and we find out that people in Germany, Japan ありがとう！, and the UK have discovered Rosetta Pebble. Would you guess that our number 1 selling song in iTunes Europe is "Florian"? Danke, Merci, y Gracias!!! 
