Happy Just The Same © DP Stewart    01/03

         Published Barque & Byte Music ®

She would sit out on the stoop all day

A rocking chair to rock her blues away

With crafty smiles on her face, she had a happy frown

She never promised anyone, that she would not let him down

Some say that she may be lonely

Others say it’s just her way

Of dealing with this new world

As she turns old and gray

Watching children in the street

       Stickball was their game                                                

 They didn’t have much money

But were happy just the same

She thinks about it often

Eighty-years of change

With two big wars behind her

Now there’s wisdom with her age

     Nobody wants to listen                                                     

To what she actually saw

The sky turned black over Europe

The day all the planes took off

She was happy just to get here

To the rough streets of the Bronx

On the long sail over

That’s when she lost her mom

She put all that behind her

All her faith in God

She worked so hard for freedom

And then she saw the towers fall

Soldiers scarred her long ago

Ghosts have come and gone

Sometimes she just remembers

Everyday she prays

Drummers Retreat © DPS Barque&Byte Music Feb. 15/97

Sitting around listening to the idle chatter,

Of a cabbie and a seasoned bar maid,

All caught up in trying to impress,

The man in the corner, behind his shades.

He laughs politely at their gestures and jokes,

Pretends that he’s sincere,

So well rehearsed in the lives of most,

He terms it as all absurd.

Small town talk on the big city walk,

Been there done that before,

Narrow minds keep them blind,

Keeps them well set in their ways.

The barmaid likes to be looked at,

The cabbie he likes to be heard,

The man in the corner scrutinizing this

 Terms it as all absurd.

Fast Eddie was a cabbie.

Linda was a bar room queen,

Between the two of them,

Life was a total daydream.

Dressed in the clothing of the common halls,

The man in the corner they thought odd,

His soul lives in limbo between the devil and god,

Because he would not confess to what he saw.

Fast Eddy was the cabbie,

Linda was a bar room queen,

And between the two of them,

Life was a total daydream.

Barque & Byte Music 03

Back in the days of pine logging and tall ships that sailed on the sea.

Rough men took their toll on the fine stands, on a river named Miramichi.

Oh the French and the English fought their battles, with gallantly built Brigantines

And the masts that rose from their top decks were brought down in Miramichi.

Oh those war tears are far long behind us, the pine forests still suffer from blunder

Not many brought down for fine masts today, the harvester screams out in torture

Not like the axes of much long gone days, down the river they no longer run them

The horizon tells quite a story, on the river named Miramichi.

In the woods camps there still is some rough men that long for the days of the old.

And they dream about double bitted axes, how their notches rang out in the cold.

How they stood proud on payday at months end, no hanging their heads in shame

A sad story this horizon does tell us, Miramichi River is quite not the same.

Oh what fate do we have in store for the islands that anchor our Miramichi Bay?

And to the prime stretches of upper waters, reserved for the US of A

To the Bartibog, Cains and Dungarven, Sevogle and Black River I do say,

That they are the breath of our river, that most still depend on their pay.

When they talk about things exploited, it can be plainly seen,

That this beautiful, Miramichi River, has witnessed the true meaning of greed.

She’s been robbed of most of her splendor, looks sad as she flows to the sea

All eager to brag about past times, on a river named Miramichi.

                                                                                             DPS ♪©

‘Ode To A Sister’  © Barque & Byte Music 1996 DPS

A schooner was built in Lunenburg

She was aptly named

The straight-laced manner of her crew

Made her fastest in the game

William J. Roué designed her

He had racing plans and dreams

After one full season on the Grand Banks

She’d be on the racing scene.

The sleekness’ of her wood planked hull

Her majestic canvas sails

Was a portrait that the world would soon?

Have etched in their minds so well

A Lunenburg launch in twenty-one

With a Captain of the saltiest seas

Sailing since the age of thirteen

Angus Walters beat ‘Elsie’ handily

Fishermen’s Cup was back in the Maritimes

She went on to many victories

In twenty-two she was defender

Took ‘Henry Ford’ two out of three

Losing once to “Gertrude L. Thebaud”

“Fishermen’s Cup” nineteen-thirty

The straight-laced crew held their heads up

And sailed away on the bright blue sea

After that the “Bluenose” was dominant

Defeating ‘Thebaud’ in thirty-one & thirty-eight

Walters sold to West Indies trading company

A reef of off Haiti was her forty-six fate

They built a replica in sixty-three

You still see her on a ten-cent piece

The memory of the ‘Bluenose’ lives on

Every tide and breaker down east

On the first leg she always went easy

Sailed away on legs two and three

With ‘Thebaud’ she once took five legs

To prove she was queen of the sea

She still challenges the best oh remember

That straight laced crew of the past

As they race on to victory forever

And her memory lives on and does last

She went on to win many races

Worked hard on the Grand Banks as well

She weathered and aged a few faces

She won the last race she ever was in.