Issuu

OGDEN AFTER HOURS

FEATURING NO-NO BOY

Lyric Book

Little Saigon (intro)

I heard about a place called Little Saigon

Everybody’s got my face, so, mine won’t have to grow so long

Palm trees, a terrace seat, a cafe where I belong

Oh, I think I’d like to go to this place, Little Saigon

One day I’d like to go to a place called Little Saigon

Buy shoes in a little shop and silks from Vietnam

Take lessons on the Đàn bầu and play an old folk song

Oh, I think I’d like to go to a place called Little Saigon

Boat People

Forty years ago, the doctor left on a boat

Never seen the snow or felt it in his hand

Sail until you see dry land

I can’t get off the news, I can’t get off the floor

The “good folks” go inside when we need them most What do prayers do behind locked doors?

Tuan went back to rebuild, only to watch Saigon fall He climbs up Mont Royal, makes a life in Montreal. Donated winter coats and Barbie dolls

Wrap myself in books. They’re talking bout this ban

I linger on bell hooks. She helps me to understand

Some of this ain’t new, no, ma’am.

Fourteen hours by car, cargo trucks and cabs

Just to shake the cops, Mom had to stay back

A Chinese safe house and covered tracks

Eighteen meters long, two hundred bodies full

A simple compass and a map from a kid’s geography book Forget Ferdinand or Captain fuckin’ Cook

Bodies bobbing in the rough South China Sea

Ran across a Thai pirate ship scavenging

Ripped the doctor from his kids, bleeding

Hours under gun, then tossed into the water

He swam back to his son, held on to his daughter

Drifting through the night…

As the daylight broke, a mountain in the dawn

Off the Malaysian coast, sweet Pulau Bidong

Never cried so hard or so long

I can’t get off the news. I can’t get off my phone

My mother came here, too, forty years ago

If you see somebody’s cold, give ‘em a coat

A Picture From The War

There was a man on a mountain hiding out amongst the boulders

He could have been my cousin. I think about his lovers

Passed a wicked month of nights above the base at Phu Tai A terror in the twilight, rockets in the sky

Tear the mountain down

Rip lightening across his face

Tear the mountain down

Lay it all to waste

Looked like Apocalypse Now sans Robert Duvall

Unfathomable light like a Ho Chi Minh mall

Red M60 tracers, anti-aircraft shots for one VC with a kalashnikov

Tear the mountain down

Rip lightening across her face

Tear the mountain down

Lay it all to waste

it’s weird when it’s real it’s so weird that it’s real

Tear the mountain down Rip lightening across my face

Tear the mountain down Lay us all to waste

There was a man on the mountain hiding out up amongst the boulders

They found a light trail of blood, but they say he got away

Dead Horse Ceremony

A poor old man came across the sea

And I know so, and I say so

Red-faced and burnt like an effigy

Poor old man

Spend the rest of your life paying off a dead horse

Poor old man put it all on a dead horse

And I say so, And I am so

No amount of money will get him to shore

Poor old man

Spend the rest of your life paying off a dead horse

Lost in the mist but a mile from the coast

And I say so, and I know so

Holding a fatherless child, holy daughter of the ghost

Of this poor old man

L’Hôtel Continental

Play an old, old song, play it again

Drift through the fog where dragons once swam

Perfume River boat bands taking tourists for a spin

Playing an old, old song, play it again

In waves

the waves

The flood of a memory

Records and Tanqueray

In waves…

Slow motion explosions

Oh god, you remember the waves

In the cathedral square, your slender sister wears a pin

Mother’s voice in the market, silk on her fingertips

Your father with his secrets in the parlor, playing a violin

Plucking an old, old song, play it again

In waves, in waves

The light on a jackfruit

Oh God, you remember his taste

In waves

That blue vase of flowers

You never learned their English name

In waves

Muscle and sinew

A first love, a nameless grave

In waves

Hotel Continental Americans in French Cafes

In waves

Slow motion explosions, oh god you remember the taste

In waves, your grandfather’s opium

His slurred speech of pride and praise

In waves… ao dais in the fire…

Café Givral (Lovers, Once)

You and I were lovers, once

In revolutionary shrugs

A flick of wrist, a twisted tongue

Young buddhas in the Vatican

Good hearts that beat like timpani

Pound for pound on wine dark seas

Now, pulses quiet and bodies dry

Dear, you and I were lovers, once

You and I were lovers, once

We covered colored skin with suds

In clawfoot rhymes we sang our tune

We banged our drums, Givral, deux boules!

A war of red, more like maroon

That turncoat son, a Paschal moon

How strange we seem both bent with time

Yet, you and I were lovers, once

Don’t take the kindness of ghosts for granted

Wounded sails, headwinds turned gales

And still, your heart’s inclined!

A sun burnt out, left all to doubt

And still, your heart’s inclined!

Nothing Left But You

What perfect harmony still shakes me to the core

Begot the cynic’s soul to rumble? It was in your voice

I had no choice

But to rise and ring out too

When those records play

All the clutter fades away

There is nothing left but you

There are no labors that can reset space or time

It’s beyond sacrifice or school

I’ve learned a lot

I’ve given up almost all I got

I keep a passport I can’t use

There’s no soil to kiss

Those old borders don’t exist

There is nothing left but you

Ain’t there some crest of a wave, oh, way out on the sea

In the back of a godhead’s ocean of ancient memories

That lifts some sacred boat

And it’s sailor, at least, a charming ghost

Who earned your heart when it was first free?

He was callous and cruel

But he bought your dreams and saw them through

To own the past, forgive the fool

What steady rhythm still doth move me at this hour

To put my pen to page and pray?

For the reconcile

To crack a joke and catch a smile

Why keep my fingers clenched dear muse?

Because, once, I died

And came out the other side

And there was nothing left but you

Vĩnh Long (for Nguyễn Chánh Hài)

Got a family story of some Viêt-cong kid

If I’d been born in ’54, might’ve done what he did

Say, how do you know when you’re being erased? I watched the rickshaws pass from the opera house gate

In history books, oh, what history takes They still give me that look when I visit my home state

Decimate me, speak sweetly in French I keep three postcards from Vĩnh Long I’ve never sent

Got a family story of some Viêt-cong kid

If I’d been born in ’54, might’ve done what he did

I’m cut by the night my Ông Cô died Was he puffing his opium pipe? Was he kissing Bà Cô in the moonlight?

Then a crack and a flash and like that, it was over Nobody sees the light until the bomb goes off Nobody sees the light until the bomb goes off

St. Denis or Bangkok, From A Hotel Balcony

A soft language barrier

The child of an immigrant

Before the Bahn Mi trucks were cool

Lunch table embarrassment

That scene with the border guard

Last day on the continent

What was the view like knowing that you

Might never come back again

There are so many things

I wish I’d have said to you

Sometimes family trees cut cruel

What did you make of Tennessee

In 1988, all covered in snow

The winter my little brother was born

And we carried him up the hill to our home

I wish I had taken French

A little more seriously

I remember singing to you

When you were dying in St. Denis

There are so many things

I should have asked you then

Sometimes songs don’t have nice end

Imperial Twist (Saigon Teens)

Can you give the world a twist just by doing the twist?

At the moment the bomb went off, They were playing “Purple Haze”

I met Robert at his restaurant, Septième arrondissement

The Doors still echo in the jungle

He said, “Your mother brought back 45s from Paris in ’65 and we learned ‘em note for note.”

Broken english Rolling Stones

Fenders, girls and dope

America provides

Oh, Saigon teens

Can you give the world a twist just by doing the twist?

Can you save the world with Acid Rock?

I didn’t know my mother’s maiden name

That time in Texas when we were detained

Been back to old Saigon

How much of you is lost

When they change your name?

Oh, Saigon teens

Half a world away the band got back on stage

Four decades to the day “Purple Haze”

Tell Hanoi, I Love Her

Twice southern with two civil wars

A fool to think that this place could ever be yours

The in between, that’s where we must explore

Tell Hanoi, I love her

Jenny’s mother in the nail salon

Bedazzled star spangled tshirt tiger mom

Saw the flag on my hat, told me to take it off

Tell Hanoi I love her

Keep no grudge against some old world kin

Not letting go, now, that’s the bodhisattva’s sin

I named my Chrysler after Ho Chi Minh

Tell Hanoi, I love her

I got an auntie, oh, but man alive

Last election cast a ballot for 45

If I’d seen what she’s seen, I might see her side

Tell Hanoi, I love her

Dream of junks, oh, to sail away

Wash your feet on a beach in Ha Long Bay

My mother said once that’s where dragons lay

Tell Hanoi, I love her

We bleed as cheap as our enemies

And we die just as needlessly

Once, I thought that there’s just one of me

Tell Hanoi, I love her

Fumble with numbers, I just wanna sing

Nothing sadder than a gook with an American dream

Sometimes I think the most communist things…

Tell Hanoi, I love her

Little Monk

So, it’s the end of the world, once again

What is it this week?

Protests over this

Riots over that

Do you remember at the monastery

When the outraged child cried

And Little Monk sweetly smiled back? How and when do I get so zen?

Light the way from your small apartment

Quiet days, worry within your reach

Tend your garden, do not harden

At the cruel and constant spinning of your mind’s demands

Pro-tip for a good heart

Be where your feet are now

So, it’s the end once again of the world the sophomores bellyache

And demonstrate over everything but class

Red suns and ash cover

Half the state of California

Little monk just meditates

And slowly walks the path

I can’t control what I can’t control

Light the way from your small apartment

Quiet gains, worry within your reach

Tend your garden, do not harden

At the cruel and constant spinning of your mind’s demands

Pro-tip for a good heart

Be where your feet are now

So it’s the end of the world

But I don’t feel so anxious this week

Drawing Canvasbacks

And sitting on the grass

Watch as they sweep the park

Trash the tents while it’s still dark

Though once I lived out of my car

I wouldn’t say I’m mad to have the sidewalk back

Mekong Baby

Sail away Mekong Baby

You were younger once

How your charm offensive tested I was younger once

All I own are second guesses

And so it goes Fighting on the beach

And so it goes Violence in our teeth

Sail away Mekong Baby

Little Saigon (reprise)

Un jour, je vais aller à Little Saigon

J’enverrai une lettre en Français à ma maman

“C’est pas Saigon, maman, mais je serais content longtemps.”

Un jour, je voudrais aller à Little Saigon

One day I’m gonna go to a place called Little Saigon

Listen to the CBC Band loud with my headphones on Walk around the indoor mall where the language sounds like song

Oh, I think I’d like to go to a place called Little Saigon

Oh, I think I’d like to go to this place, Little Saigon.