After the relationship is over and the fights have ceased.

Expats are temporary immigrants. But there are different types of
expats. Some just treat it as an extended vacation. Others are
seasonal and tend to forget the real truth that they are guests and
the local rules apply. Some become more native than the natives. A
fourth group is more internationalist and are more at home crossing
borders and dealing with multiple cultures than they are back home.

This song is about that last group.

Fall is my favorite time of year. Fall in New England is especially
entrancing. This has also been called a love song.

Memorial to a minor league baseball fan.

I wrote this on a paper placemat in a restaurant in Melbourne,
Australia after doing a tour of the Great Ocean Road and hearing a bit
of its history. Nearby diners were either amused or confused as the
waitress kept trying to put the food on the placemat and I kept pushing
it away because I didn’t want to lose the melody and my train of thought.

There is a place for warriors. There is a place for story
tellers. Sometimes both groups forget there is a need for the other.

Just a little fun pretending wordsmiths exist the same as blacksmiths did.

For some friends after the death of a child.

Spouses have been waiting for their loved ones to return from business
trips for centuries. This story happens at Christmas.

2001 was an eventful year for many reasons. I wrote this to sing with
some friends at a new years eve party.