Song Lyrics

All You Have

Azerbaijan is a small country located at the northern tip of Iran and along the Caspian Sea. It was formerly part of the larger Soviet Union, but when Mother Russia  fell apart the country was left holding part of an economy, but no way to make a living. Today, Azerbaijan is filled with beautiful, friendly people surrounded by a rusting social system, half- completed soviet-style brick buildings, and prolific oil resource spilling out of rusting pipes and contaminated land. As we drove down the road, we saw many people standing alongside wooden crates each topped with a few items for sale; such as a tire tube, a few soft drinks. These crates are their roadside shops. A friend of mine said, "What are they waiting for?" My response was, "they are waiting for something better than an empty crate to come along." That night as I lay in the only "luxury" hotel in Baku, the capitol city, I was struck by the fact that Americans should be so thankful that we have the chance to realize our goals. We should be so thankful that we have the opportunity to do something more than stand alongside a polluted landscape with an empty crate. How we change our lives is our choice, but a least we have a choice.

Oil is a huge natural and economic resource, but in its' present state is a blight on the land.

Smiling children occur the world over.

Old-world architecture can be found throughout the city residing beside soviet-style, drab high-rises. Street-sweepers; this old woman swept the street every morning with a straw broom.

The Flea Song

When we moved to Texas in 1992, our dogs had never seen a flea. We soon found out that fleas in Texas were as much a part of the landscape as cattle. We tried and quickly abandoned the holistic, non-chemical approach. Now we live a happy, flea-free life as chemical free as processed cheese food. I co-wrote this song with our two dogs, Tori and Peko. The tune "Rawhide" is courtesy of Dimetri Tovekin and Bill Washington, ASCAP.

The Flea Song
Lesli Wood 1996

Scratchin’, scratchin’, scratchin’
Though the fleas keep hatchin’
Dogs they keep a scratchin’ their rawhide
Garlic, yeast, diazinon
The fleas they keep hangin’ on
The pups are one big walking Superfund
Pyretheron and dustin’
Our budgets keep a bustin’
The fleas they only think it’s all in fun
Let her in (Let her in) Put her out (Put her out)
Let her in (Let her in) Rawhide
Dip her down (Dip her down) Put her out.
Dip her down, Rawhide
Dippin’, dippin’, dippin’
Though we keep a dippin’
Fleas they keep a nippin’ their rawhide
They say if it would freeze
It’d kill off all the fleas
I don’t thing the pups can last that long
Let her in (Let her in) Put her out (Put her out)
Let her in (Let her in) Rawhide
Dip her down (Dip her down) Put her out.
Dip her down, Rawhide
Scratchin’, scratchin’, scratchin’
Though the fleas keep hatchin’
Dogs they keep a scratchin’ their rawhide
Washin’, dippin’ scrubbin’
The fleas keep a comin’
Main course-poodle, schnauser on the side

Take Me Back to the Island, Man
(The Trinidad Song)

Trinidad is the southern-most Caribbean island, located just off the northern coast of Venezuela. The people are friendly, life-loving hosts to an island of great tropical beauty and culture. Columbus knew a happenin' port when he saw it. He named Trinidad for three mountains he saw as his ship sailed off the southern edge of the island. Carib is the local beer brewed on the island and is best enjoyed laying on the uncrowded beaches with a spiced meat sandwich call a Roti. It is truly the undiscovered Caribbean Island to be seen not heard. I enjoyed many visits to Trinidad and have made many friendships there. Great pan players come from the island, a treat to be heard and seen. The Renegades pan band comes especially highly recommended.

Take Me Back To The Island
Lesli Wood 1997
[listen]

Take me back to the island man
Tropical breeze and a steel drum band
Children playing in the sun all day
And the sea wash your cares away
This was where I was born to be
A little Carib and a big Roti
Beneath the palms of a coconut tree
Take me back to the island please

Mr. English in the sun so hot
Don’t you know when its time to stop
The sugar cane will wait another day
Let the breeze blow you care away

Take me back to the islands man
Tropical breeze and a steel drum band
Children playing in the sun all day
And the sea wash your cares away
This was where I was born to be
A little Carib and a big Roti
Beneath the palms of a coconut tree
Take me back to the island please

When Columbus sailed the seven seas
In Trinidad he saw the mountains three
He never made it back to Spain you see
Cause Isabella couldn’t guarantee, that

He’d make it back to the island man
Tropical breeze and a steel drum band
Children playing in the sun all day
And the sea wash your cares away

This was where I was born to be
A little Carib and a big Roti
Beneath the palms of a coconut tree
Take me back to the island please

This was where I was born to be
Take me back to the island please

Tidal channel along the edge of an east coast coconut grove.