Michael Kelly Blanchard


Words and Music by M.K.Blanchard
İ Gotz Music/Benson
(860) 673-1032

Love After All
Daddy Cut My Hair
Saturday Dad
Jesus Heals The Heart
Under The Quarter Moon Sky
The Hand That Paints The Day
The Wind Blows Where It Will
Saturday's Like Summer
Constrained By Love
The View Out The Window
There Is Still a King of Hearts

Love After All

Love in these days is a dangerous dream.
Lonely and crazed like a dying birds scream.
Broken in ways that are hard to redeem.
Love is a dangerous ...
Love in these times is a gamble at best.
On the front lines without a bulletproof vest.
Riddled with crimes that infect and infest.
Love is a gamble at best.

But still I believe in Love after all
Though to have it youıll bleed
To find it youıll fall
Every soul needs to be caught by its call
Caught by Love after all.

Love in this age is a lesson in tears.
Ruin by rage, fondled by fears.
Locked in a cage through these crucible years.
Love is a lesson in ...
Love in this place is a struggle of wills.
Some face to face some buried until,
They grow up a hate, no laughter can kill.
Love is a struggle of wills.


Love was a Word with fingers and toes.
A flesh and blood sword that cut us God knows.
An unlikely Lord on the throne of death throes.
That was love with fingers and toes.
Love is a heart broke open like bread.
Wine in a cup that's more than blood red.
Go on, drink it up, you're why it was shed.
Why love is broke open like bread.


Dayscape speaker

Joy is the day, the play, the song
Sung in each melody melding
Open the door and come along
The Dance Has just begun --

Sun rise, blushing the skies
And the air is alive with waking.
Night sighs closing its eyes
To the splendid surprise of the day.
Wake up, coffee to cup
As the art interrupts the morning.
Outside, love is alive
Calling you child, away.
Come out and lie in the laughter.
Fall to the folly of fields.
Peace is a promising pasture.
Smack in the middle of real.
There in the folly of fields.
Peace is the promise of real.

Sun climbs over the pines
As the early declines to the after
Wind chimes harmonize time
As they dance to the rhyme of the breeze.
Cloud cakes fill up the plate
Of the sky as it takes to dozing.
Mid-day beckons and waves
With a song that is played by the trees.
Don't you remember the wonder
Peeking out from every hour.
Happy that hasn't a hunger
But simply the faith of a flower.
Peeking out from every hour.
The simple faith of a flower.


Gathering moments like flowers from a field
Taking them home in His cart
God is a gardener whose harvest is the real
Love is the beat of His heart.

Sun sighs squinting its eyes
As the light now denies its dying.
The day tries on a disguise
It's loveliest lie you might say.
Dusk rouge cannot de-fuse
The mingling moods of the moment
Day death exhales its breath
As the colors bereft to gray.

Hurry the star shards are falling
Down from the ceiling of coal.
listen you'll hear someone calling
Open the ears of your soul.
Under the ceiling of coal
Open the ear of your soul.

(Reprise of Intro)

Daddy Cut My Hair speaker

Daddy cut my hair. Didn't care for style.
He'd just snip and snip then sweep it in a pile.
I could not keep still, but he would understand.
Some things are just known between a boy and a man.
Right there in the middle of our kitchen's cluttered floor.
In the middle of the fifties in between a couple wars.
He'd get out some old scorched sheet and wrap it round my neck.
And he would be so close to me I'd smell the coffee on his
breath...He would be so close to me...

We had a fallin' out. Hanged if I know why.
But every time I think on it there's water in my eyes.
We said some awful words. He ordered me to leave.
For years my sister wrote about how hard my mother grieved.
Second tour of duty, when the thrill had long been gone.
I started giving haircuts to my buddy's there in Nam.
The wire came on Friday. I was cutting Jo Jo's hair.
We buried Mom on Wednesday. Dad was happy I was there.
Buried Mom on Wednesday...


He never did remarry. Traveled quite a bit.
As a father still some distance, but as a Grandpa quite a hit!
The stroke was unexpected. There is so much to relearn.
He gets around with just a cane, but his speech has not returned.

Now I cut Daddy's hair and he still don't care for style.
I snip and snip the memories then sweep them in a pile.
I don't say a word. He smiles when I'm done.
Some things are just known between a father and his son.
Right there in the middle of our kitchen's cluttered floor.
In my middle forties, I feel the ache once more.
For all the years our anger kept us far apart.
Thank God that there's forgiveness to mend a broken heart...
Thank God that there's forgiveness...

Saturday Dad

"I made two goals in last Tuesday's game,
Coach said I was his right hand man."
"I'm sorry I missed it, son, but let me explain."
"It's okay Dad, I understand."
"I got the lead in the class play, they cheered when I took my bow."
"I wish I'd been there... I couldn't get away."
"Daddy, can we go now?"
"David will be there when we get back. Mom really likes him, I think."
He took us once to the BMX track, and last night he unplugged the sink."
"Remember to tell her about Christmas break, I got the chalet for five days.
We can tear up the slopes and skate on the lake,
and catch up in six hundred ways.
I'll make up for the game and the play."

Saturday Dad, ache of the age.
Painting his portrait in a couple of days.
Hanging his heart on a weekend charade
Saturday Dad, Sunday trade.

"All things considered they're during quite well. I guess we did something right.
After dragging them through our own private hell,
and making them spoils of the fight.
Well, sure he helped too; I'm not questioning that.
Itıs just that they still are, our kids.
I know he's been great and I take off my hat,
but I think there's some good that we did.
No, Connie is gone. She moved back to L.A. Never got use to the cold.
I'm doing fine, still go to A.A., leading the league where I bowl.
Oh and I know it sounds crazy but I'm going to church. No, I'm no religious freak.
But if David and you didn't think it would hurt,
Thought I'd take the kids with me this week.
Just send them out when I, beep."


Jesus Heals the Heart

Your time is like a house of cards,
Stands so tall, falls so hard,
And all your dreams lay in the yard,
Broken bits of show

Your days are windows, empty panes,
You mend the glass they break again,
And all the while that howling wind,
Bites and bitter blows.

But Jesus heals the heart you know,
When nothing's left that's good to know.
Look at me, I ought to know.

You paint your face; you paint your heart,
If you open up and fall apart,
Learned the hard way to be hard,
And live the lover's woe.

You try to hide in what you do,
You lace your lies like some old shoe,
And all the while no one is fooled,
Your sadness clearly shows.



Remember this, the world resists
The tenderness of Grace.
Right to the grave, it stays the slave
Trying to save a little face.

But with the hurt and the private fears,
There holds a hope choked up in tears,
That someone's loved you all these years,
Who wouldn't let you go.

So when surrounded by the sighs,
And lost in tired alibis,
When no one's home why don't you try
The One who loves you so.


Under the Quarter Moon Sky

Hey Dad, how Œbout a walk with me...a walk will be...Great, you'll see.
Hey Dad how 'bout a talk with me, under the quarter moon sky.

Hey Dad let's grab an apple or two...one for me... two for you.
Hey Dad let's grab an apple or two, under the quarter moon sky.
I've been needing some time alone... with only you, only you will do.
Just you and me on our own...with nobody else...out there by ourselves.
On a perfectly wonderful night away from home.

Hey Dad tell me 'bout Grandpa's farm...the ol' frog pond...the cranky swan.
Daddy tell me bout Grandpa's farm, under the quarter moon sky.
Hey, Dad tell me about that dare...with Grandpa's mare...She threw you where?
Come on Dad tell me about that dare, under the quarter moon sky.
I've been missing Grandpa a lot... The pipe he smoked...his corny jokes...
I would give anything I got...just to have him here...just to have him near.
On a perfectly wonderful night...right on this spot.


There was a dream I had one Fall.
I did not want to wake.
Grandpa and Dad and I were all running down in a meadow
out under a sycamore tree.
Laughing like we were brothers in the summer time.

Hey Dad when can we go again...please tell me when...can't wait till then.
Daddy when can we go again, under the quarter moon sky.
Hey Dad before we go inside...Please don't say I cried...bout Grandpa dyin'.
Promise me Dad before we go inside, in from the quarter moon sky.
I been thinking bout me and you...You know what Dad, we always have...
The best time when its just us two
Come on over here...(Let me) whisper in your ear...
On a perfectly wonderful night...I love you!

The Hand That Paints the Day

There's a hand that paints the day.
As the moments rush.
And no colors get away from the Master's brush.
On His canvas stretched to time.
All the human hues,
Blend and blur a design,
God could only choose.
There are dreams dabbed in doubt.
Hopes washed in pain.
There are broken hearts, that leave a mark.
A deep crimson stain.
There is laughter's motley joy.
Whispers wet with sighs.
There are shades of shame, regret's rain.
Running from the eyes.
Stroke by stroke the Masterpiece,
Grows in gift and grace.
Till this Love's last line completes
The Painter's tear-stained face.

The Wind Blows Where It Will!

The spring of love is an ocean wind.
Feels so cool while it burns the skin
Blows two fools there and back again.
Through the summer of its ways.
Then an autumn harbor must be found.
To pull things in to tie things down
For winter gales will soon come round.
To worry up the waves.

Oh, the wind blows where it will
Now it rages, now itıs still.
The Breath of God off a holy hill.
Oh, the wind blows where it will.

Then ol' man trouble comes to town.
To pull and push and knock around.
The peace that you finally thought you'd found.
Oh the ruins there.
As love or home or life is lost.
You feel the pain, you weigh the cost
But a broken heart is the common cross
Everyone must bare.


The will of God is a mystery.
Stone Spirit skipped on a sanguine sea.
The trades across humanity.
A howling in the bones.
Itıs not a quest for a holy grail.
Not a test that you pass or fail.
It's a lonely wind to an open sail.
That blows the traveler home.



Mommy says that Daddy says we're goin' to the drive-in.
Daddy called and said he likes what's showin' at the drive-in.
Mommy's poppin' up a lot of popcorn.
Got to get my pillow and pajamas on.
When Daddy gets home yep, we're goin' to the drive-in.

There's a double feature that's showin' at the drive-in.
And along with that there's some cartoons that they throw in.
The first movie has someone that they both like.
He was in the film on the first night.
When they met each other on a blind date at the drive-in.

Speedin' down the highway, we're heading to the drive-in.
If I had it my way we'd be living at the drive-in.
Everything you ever want they got there.
From a snack bar to a playground in the fresh air.
And those little speakers that they hang on the window at the drive-in.

Daddy likes to park way out in the back at the drive-in.
Far enough away from other people at the drive-in.
Even though the movie is a Disney
Sometimes in the next car the things we see.
Aren't exactly wholesome for a family at the drive-in.

Oh my, oh my how I love goinı out to the drive-in.
Oh my, oh my how I love goinı out to the drive-in.

"Only two more minutes to show time" (Spoken)

Hey the first one is a western that they're showin' at the drive-in.
With Indians and cowboys and the horses that they're ridin'.
I don't really understand the plot much.
Daddy says that's okay cause there's not much.
I don't care, it's fun being here at the drive-in.

It's intermission time now at the drive-in.
With pizza and soda from the snack bar at the drive-in.
Daddy says they're high priced and low grade.
That's why we brought the popcorn and the Cool-Aid.
We spent all that we're gonna just to get here to the drive-in.

"Keep it down back there." (Spoken)


"Now only one more minute to show time." (Spoken)

The second movie's kind of dull I'm not even listenin'
Just a bunch of men and women talking and then kissin'
Daddy's gotta worried look on his face.
Mommy says its nothing but a disgrace.
They're starting up the car now, we're headin' home now from the drive-in.
I'm pretendin' that I am asleep back from the drive-in.
Daddy's gonna have to pick me up and carry me in.
You know I think this might be the best part.
Of goin' to the movies after its dark.
The snuggle in his arms when you're home from the drive-in.


Saturdayıs Like Summer'

Crow cries out the window, from a hemlock throne.
His wake up call the wind knows and swirls around the home.
All week long I've been so tired to the bone.
Now I'm out of jail an unfurled sail waiting to be blown.
           Down stairs in the kitchen, breakfast ghosts escape.
Someone's up and fixin' the coffee and pancakes.
The maple syrups sittin' right there by my plate.
My stomach eyes are big and wide, my mouth's an open gate. 

Off there in the distance, just beyond the hill.
A log offers resistance to a chain saw's noisy will.
Circling with persistence a hawk cries high and shrill.
For a mole or mouse to leave their house and become his first kill.
The sun climbs slow and yellow and calls the brave boys out.
To race down through the meadow and bring back joy from doubt.
A dog barks at his echo, shadows start to pout.
Its Saturday, the work is play, the language speaks in shouts.

Saturdayıs like summers, simple. Slow and sweet.
A rest for rat race runners. A shade tree from the heat.
Blessed lawn of wonder, for my tired, shoeless feet.
A holiday to laugh away that shows up once a week.

Soon the runners and the walkers wander from their homes.
The old folks are the talkers, the young ones have headphones.
A field day for the gawkers as every shape that's known.
Parades by as Spandex tries to contain flesh and bone.
Now Daddy's got the children. Husbands got their list.
Wives are playing pilgrims in the shopping mall wilderness.
The afternoon is filled in with what the morning missed.
Lessons and sport and all sorts of miscellaneous.

Too soon the daylight starts to dim. Too quickly dusk descends.
A whistle calls the warriors in as farewells frame the friends.
Supper's simmer, baths begin. Outside the night sings hymns.
A tales re-told to a sleepy soul then blink the story ends.
Oh God must have His reasons for everything that's done.
They're not always pleasin' but I can think of one.
That shows up every season, four times every month.
A Sabbath day called Saturday thrown in just for fun.


Constrained by Love

They never worried about the empty nest.
It had been so full they could do with the rest.
Then after a while a trip way out west.
Yes it all had turned out for the best.
Then the intern said, "Mame its more than fatigue.
A baby not age is why you don't bleed.
The sensible thing would be not to proceed.
Later that year she gave birth to Colleen...
Birth to her darling Colleen.

Constrained by love.
Rearranged by love.
Caught in such merciful chains by love.
A bird in a cage as free as a dove
Is the soul thatıs constrained by love.

They never knew her husband at all.
So they were not surprise when she came back there that fall.
With a grandson and daughter the condo got small.
Boxes in the cellar, boxes in the hall.
Then one wet spring night, she did not come home.
That was five years ago how her children have grown.
"Grandpa" and "Grandma" the only parents they've known.
Love gonna grow where ever its sown...
Grow wherever itıs sown.


He never told them till right near the end.
He knew how they felt so at home he'd pretend.
But his funeral was mostly made up of new friends.
Oh it hurt how he hid from them.
Down at the hospital they have a whole wing.
For babies dying from that very same thing.
Tuesdays and Thursdays they go rock them and sing.
Itıs a heartbreak but somehow quite comforting.
Just to rock them and quietly sing.


The View Out the Window

"I can't see 'em," she said with her face to the glass,
on the very tip-top of her toes.
She returned to the bed, as the high honkers flew passed.
And her mother woke up from a doze.
The twilight was spreading its blanket of night.
The evening forgetting the drowsy daylight,
the girl got some bedding for the woman so white,
then kissed her with questioning lips.
"They were right over the house. Their wings swished on my head."
She grumbled in dimpled disdain.
"Escaping down south." She said kicking the bed.
Her pale parent winced with old pain.
"The least they could do as they passed by today,
is to give us a view as they fly away"
Then seeing right through what the child meant to say,
the woman spoke up though so sick.

³The view out the window is just a piece of the sky.
Sometimes you hear the gray geese go but you can't see em' fly.
Sometimes your heart aches inside so you feel you could die.
And the reasons, well God knows but He don't tell you why
ŒCause the view out the window is just a piece of the sky.²

"I won't let you go. Momma, I just plain refuse," she said looking out at the stars.
"I'll miss you so, and Daddy needs you,
and besides what will we do with two cars."
The wind off the hill came and jiggled the pane.
Sorrow just spilled from their hearts once again.
Then the room got so still, as the mother explained,
the mercy that turns you to tears.
"Now God's got a house in a place set apart,
with a porch that sits over the sea.
He's fixed up a room that looks out from His heart,
and He's saving it just for me.
But I'll gaze from His window to this world here below
And laugh in the wind blowin' so you will know
that my love for you been growin' even though
we've been a part through the years."



There were coats on the bed and aunts in the hall,
and a kitchen of small talk relief.
For her mother was dead, and words were a wall,
behind which lay all of her grief.

(Reprise Verse)
There's a woman a' rockin' her child off to sleep.
As the dusk pulls the day from the sky.
Then off in the distance she hears the high geese,
and it comes back how her mother died.
A tremor of fear pierces her soul,
She kisses the ear of the dear one she holds
and feels a tear on her cheek as it rolls.
"Oh Momma." She lets herself sigh.
Then a whisper of wind tickles the shade
and creeks the old oak in the back.
And a peace like a friend says, "Don't be afraid",
as the child wakes up on her lap.

"Momma, why you got tears on your face?"
The memory comes to and the years fall in place.
And her heart is renewed by the nearness of Grace
as she sings the old words sweet and high.


"The view out the window is just a piece of the sky.
Sometimes you hear the gray geese go,
but you can't see 'em fly.
Sometimes your heart aches inside so, you feel you could die.
And the reasons, well God knows, and some day by and by.
We'll look out of His window and forget to ask Œwhyı.
For with the view out His window, we'll forget how to cry.²

There is Still a King of Hearts

There is still a King of hearts, ruler of our shattered realms.
Though our kingdoms come apart and the fault is in ourselves.
There is still some royalty, haunting our dark ruins of soul.
One whose priceless poverty, shames us with all our hoards of gold.

There is still a noble name, in the slander of our times.
Whose truth has always stayed the same.
Whose love has never been confined.
Lover of a ransomed race, that's known the worthy weight of tears.
Through the fire of His Grace, has championed all our broken years.

Oh Jesus, closer than the air.
Welcomed visitor to flesh.
Turn this my castle grim and bare.
To Your Spirit's home of rest.
May Your presence bless.

There is still a servant king, wanting our proud eyes to see.
That His robe is suffering. That His sword is mercy.
And the governments of guns, with all their principles of power.
Will not stop what He's begun. Will not have the final hour.

There is still a Lord of Light, brighter than our sanctity.
Conqueror of every night. Monarch of all history.
With His voice the raging wave, quivers into a tideless pool.
With His love the lost are saved, from self-dungeons so dark and cruel.