Calico Shadow © 2012 by Deborah B. Seymour. Written for Miss Sweet Pea >^..^< There’s a calico shadow that follows me Wherever I go, there it will be On silent feet with a doleful stare A calico shadow follows me everywhere That calico shadow is set to pounce On anything that moves around Whether it be friend or enemy My calico shadow she’s protecting me What does she think, what does she see When those green eyes stare at me I’m not alone, there is no doubt A calico shadow follows me about That calico shadow once had me duped Disappeared down the laundry chute But in a flash was back upstairs That shadow gets in everywhere What does she think, what does she see When those green eyes stare at me I’m not alone, there is no doubt A calico shadow follows me about The calico shadow is fast asleep Tucked in a ball down at my feet But I don’t dare breathe or start to stir Or that shadow might wake and... (purr)

Je Suis Charlie Hebdo © 2015 by Deborah B. Seymour Je suis une américaine, je suis aussi musicienne| J’espère que la musique me fait une citoyenne du monde Donc je chante aujourd’hui, pour la France et Paris Pour la liberté de l’art et d’expression Je préfère mourir debout que vivre à genoux Je surmonte tous ces menaces avec courage et audace Je n’ai pas peur de penser, je n’ai pas peur de parler Je chant avec ma tête haute, je suis Charlie Hebdo Ceux qui font la violence montent sur les dos de l'ignorance Moi, je garde mon silence, jamais plus! Je chante pour les artistes, écrivains, caricaturistes Je chante pour un, je chante pour tous English translation: I am an American, I am also a musician I'd like to think that music Makes of me a global citizen So I'll take this chance to song for Paris and for France For the liberty of art and expression I’d rather die upon my feet then live my life on my knees I’ll surmount all these threats with courage and confidence I am not afraid to think I am not afraid to speak I sing with my head high, I am Charlie Hebdo Those that make violence Ride the back of ignorance I won’t keep my silence any more I sing for the artists Writers and cartoonists I sing for one, I sing of all

Gato Negro Asleep in the window soaking up the sunlight The weight of the world seems to pass you by But you have a secret you keep deep inside you Hidden in the colors of your eyes Oh, Gato Negro, please tell me true When you take that midnight stroll beneath the moon Is there anyone out there you know of Looking for someone to love Is he dark and handsome, or sweet and blond A businessman, a craftsman, a singer of songs Whoever he is, is he lonely and blue And looking for someone to hold onto When you slip into his window and purr around his feet You’ll slip into his heart as you settle there to sleep Please take him this message “Dear Sir: we have not met But I know you’re out there somewhere, may we find each other yet Asleep in the window, soaking up the sun Another long night is over, another day begun...

Critics © 1993, 2017 by Deborah B. Seymour Look at your tongue wagging inside your head Your words have run away from your brain Do you realize that what you said caused a world of pain Everyone’s a critic, that’s a fact But at least some people have a sense of tact What was your intention? Did you think to help? Because if you did , baby, you’re fooling yourself Critics criticize just to make their own day So many words, so little to say Tearing down the truth with their walls of lies But hey, who am I to criticize...(who am I to criticize) Now feedback is constructive, feedback’s a tool That makes you do better the things you do Pearls of wisdom, words to the wise Turn rocks to jewels before my eyes So why do I have to tell you that cutting me down hurts I don’t do better, I just feel worse An avalanche of negatives falling like knives Corrodes my confidence and eats me alive We all see things in different eyes ‘Cause we all lead different lives Different hands weave different strands Of experience through time I’m not saying you can't speak your mind But why be rough or be unkind Here’s a little secret, may it shed some light You can tell me I’m wrong, but you got to do it right

Food © 2006 by Deborah B. Seymour You’re a scrappy little punk but I like you a lot Your scritching and your scratching hit my hot spots Inquisitive and curious, you’ve got a way Of capturing my attention CHORUS: So if you want to snuggle up and treat me real good I’ll nibble on your on whiskers like a nice girl should But if you piss me off and put me in a bad mood I’ll chase you down And play with my food…play with my food I like your kind, yes I like your type You’re lazy by day but up all night Thrifty and industrious, you save the best For the wee hours of the morning Oh, the night is young Oh, I’m having fun Oh, you’ve got me charmed Come right here now into my arms… So, I’m not as bad as they like to say I keep my claws in most days I want to purr and be petted real good So what are you waiting for

Chicken In An Engine © 1991 by Deborah B. Seymour I’m a chicken in an engine and I don’t know what to do! The road’s going by at 55, I don’t know how I’m still alive Cruising in this engine’s not quite what I meant to do I was only trying to run away from the man and from the coop It was a cold winter day but we chickens got outside Cluckity-clucking, really trucking , having a real good time When the man rushed from his cabin saying “You chickens! Back inside!” That’s when we all decided it’d be much more fun to hide Some of us hid behind the woodpile, others behind the shed I was much more clever, oh yes, I used my head I saw the man’s old pick-up truck standing there outside So I scooted on over and climbed right up inside I’m a chicken in an engine, I think I’m really cool The man will never look in here, I’ll play him for the very fool Hide here for a while, I think it will be swell! When I sneak back home tonight I’ll have a tale to tell I heard the others squawking as he put them in the coop I heard the man go walking, so sure I had him duped “Hah ha, ho ho, you silly man, you’ll never ever going to find me!” How the heck was I to know he’d come back out with his ignition key I’m a chicken in an engine and now I’m really scared He’s gone and turned the motor on and parts are moving everywhere He’s leaving from the barnyard, it’s thrown me for a loop One false move inside this place and I’ll be chicken soup And there’s a piston here, a piston there, they’ve got me in a pinch But with the crankshaft turning and the spark plugs sparking I don’t dare move an inch He’s starting to accelerate, it makes my feathers dance The only way to combat the shock’s to fall into a chicken trance We sped on down to town and somehow by the luck of grace I was still in one whole piece when we got to the Good Year place They hoisted the truck for tires, I looked and what did I see But two astonished Goodyear Guys gawking right back up at me “WHOA, MACK! There’s a CHICKEN in this engine! What heck is it trying to do? Is it trying to become fricassee? Or maybe just chicken stew? But this fryer still alive, it seems, though scared to death it’s true Looks like to me like it’s got a case of the “Chicken Car-Done Blues!” The moral of this story, yes I lived to tell you chicks Don’t hide under engine hoods, you’ll just get in a real fix Not only will you get a ride, you’ll be taken for a cruise And just like me, get a case of the “Chicken Car-Done Blues” !

Dinner For One © 2002 by Deborah B. Seymour The table is set, the candles are lit Sauce in the pot, but there’s something I've missed 'Cause though I made a meal for two somehow it’s all come undone I’m sitting down to a dinner for one I don’t how it happened, how it came to all this I’d planned a feast of passion, now I dine on remiss All that's left's a plate of lonely with a dream underdone As I sit here at this dinner for one It started with attraction, I added a kiss Stirred in expectation to heighten the mix One misunderstanding turned the whole batch to doubt No wonder this recipe didn’t turn out So, I drink my cup of sorrow and spit out my plan It’s hard to chew the pieces of a chance gone bad But flavor of regret will linger long on my tongue Sitting down here to this dinner for one

The Angry Song © 1991 by Deborah B. Seymour & Ann Krohn When I’m angry the traffic moves slow When I’m angry my pimples show When I’m angry my thighs look fat When I’m angry I kick the cat Don’t you try and tell that it’s cause of stress No, I’m not angry cause of PMS I’m angry ‘cause I’m angry and don’t you forget That when I’m angry I’m upset When I’m angry, I can’t sleep When I’m angry my clothes look cheap When I’m angry my dinner burns When I’m angry there’s no left turn When I’m angry...when I'm angry... WHEN I’M ANGRY I’M UPSET! When I’m angry the coffee gets cold When I’m angry the fridge grows mold When I’m angry my socks both itch When I’m angry I’m a… (angry) When I’m angry the doorbell rings When I’m angry I.WONT.SING. When I’m angry things fumble and fall, When I’m angry the robo-calls call

Yucky Bugs © 1988 by Dan MacArthur/MacArthur Road Music Used by permission- thanks, Dan! -Deb We planted the cabbage at the edge of the garden and went back home to watch it grow They aren’t much trouble, no one really likes to eat ‘em ‘cept some tiny little bugs that we all know They don’t have to grow in very good soil so it comes as a kind of a surprise That the cabbageworms will eat ‘em ‘til there aren’t nothing left if you don’t; squish the little butterflies So come on down, let’s go out and have a bug squashing party tonight We’ll squish the little buggers as they begin to flutter and our fingers will turn all nice and white We’ll clean the cabbageworms out of the cabbage patch and everything will work out right So come on down let’s go out and have a bug squashing party tonight Take a ramble through the bramble growing six feet tall take some berries, and pop e in your mouth It takes a lot of time to keep your brambles healthy and water to keep away the draught But those tiny green bugs come out and eat ‘em ‘til the stems fall over in the rain But you can grab those little bugs and squish ‘em in your fingers and your berry patch is health y once a gain So come on down, let’s go out and have a bug squashing party tonight We’ll kill the Japanese beetles in their shiny green armor so they don’t get away in flight They're loving each other all over the bushes completely unaware of their plight So come on down, let's go out and have a bug squashing party tonight Now slugs is bugs that nobody loves but everybody understands That they look disgusting and they taste disgusting and they feel disgusting on your hands But of all the little bugs that grow in my garden slugs have a special place in my heart ‘Cause they love to drink beer, they’ll drink any kind of beer and they won’t quit drinking once they start So come on down, let’s go out and have a slug drowning party tonight No, they can’t tell if they’re swimming Guinness or sinking in Miller light They ain’t particular, they’ve got no taste and they’ll drown in any beer in sight So come on down, let's go out and have a slug drowning party tonight Now I never would have believed that I’d be telling my kids its OK to kill another living thing And I know what you mean when you tell me even Japanese Beatles can learn how to sing I agree when you tell me every little living thing should have chance to live if they wish But if I go out and plant it, well then goddamn it if you eat it, you’re gonna get squished! So come on down, let’s go out and have a bug squashing party tonight Cause we don’t want to spray ‘em, we don’t want to zap ‘em we don’t want to cause them any fright If they’d leave us alone, we’d leave them alone and everything would turn out right So come on down, let’s go out and have a bug squashing party tonight

Colonoscopy © 2014 by Deborah B. Seymour I’m sitting in the bathroom as calm as calm can be Stirring funny powders into my herbal tea The night will be a long one…at least it will for me For I’m getting ready for that little word that starts with “c” Colonoscopy, colonoscopy A modern rite of passage that’s finally come to pass Colonoscopy, colonoscopy All that I can say is it’s a big pain in the… They’ll lay me on the table and put me in a gown Feed me funny drugs to divest me of my frown And when the doc comes in she will smile and say to me “Bottoms up, my dear: this first round is on me!” Oh Lord, make my insides will be perfect, my insides clear No polyps to be seen, no mis-dividing cells to fear Oh Lord, if you get me through this upside-down exam I promise I’ll never eat red meat Drink, smoke or swear or eat sugar…or chew gum… I’ll adopt stray puppies and kittens And even give chocolate...