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“Packed with inventive lyrics that hold up a mirror to our unique times. Fine musicianship and production to boot. I highly recommend you give Cinders in the Wind a spin.” —Cap W.

“What a sweet and tender record you made! Beautiful songs, great arrangements, superb musicianship, your voice in fine form. It needs to be heard by many.” —Steven B.

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Liner Notes

Recorded by Jeremy Goody at Megasonic Sound (megasonicsound.com) and by Sara Glaser at Studio Oxen Four

Mixed and mastered by Jeremy Goody

All songs composed by Sara Glaser, copyright ©2021 (ASCAP). German lyrics for “Stitches” written by Caroline Testard. All music P&C 2022 Sara Glaser

Cover artwork “Nudie Suit Queen” and graphic design by Sara Glaser

Profound thanks to all who lent their musical superpowers to this project: William, Ray, Melanie, Louie, Gordon, Irene, Hank, David, and Rick. To Caroline for inspiring “Stitches” and singing on it, and to Sarah Gronquist for being an angel (on “Give Up the Ghost”). To Jeremy Goody at Megasonic Sound for his meticulous mixing, mastering, and recording; to William Beatty for his wise arrangement and production counsel; to Michael McNevin’s Mudpuddle Shop community for ongoing creative nurturing; and to my loving family and my lovely family of friends—your encouragement and support mean everything.

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The Songs

THE GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAINS OF CALIFORNIA
(©2020 Sara Glaser)

[Dedicated to those who were uprooted and set into motion by the California forest fires.]

I’ve lived a quiet life, no one’s mother, no one’s wife
Put down my roots in the place I was planted
Old furniture, old photographs, hand-me-downs and bric-a-brac
I tended to the home I was granted

The fox, the elk, the bear, driven from its lair
The hawk, the chickadee leaves its nest
Dry lightning’s aftermath made a fiery path
To our little town near the high Sierra crest

I never thought I’d see the hills of Tennessee
Never thought I’d be in the state of North Carolina
I never traveled east, its land has come to me
I’m in the Great Smoky Mountains of California

Up with the red, red sun, orange moon when the day is done
Ash and embers drift into our dreams
Fire fighters sleep, standing on their feet
While the dragon breathes on the pines and the evergreens

When nature has a song, best to sing along
Her voice brings every child to the choir
I was silent in the corner, she grabbed me with no warning
My soles were soft, she set my feet on fire

I never thought I’d see the hills of Tennessee
Never thought I’d be in the state of North Carolina
I never traveled east, its land has come to me
The Great Smoky Mountains of California

A cot, a stove, a car, I’m living everywhere
From Slagger to Poker Flat to Angels Camp
Colfax to Jellico, anywhere I go
I’m free and wild like a cinder in the wind

Never thought I’d ever see the hills of Tennessee
Never thought I’d say a farewell to California
I’m going east to see the land that came to me
The Great Smoky Mountains of Carolina

SMOKY COVID CABIN FEVER HEAT WAVE BLUES
(©2020 Sara Glaser)

[Written in the summer of 2020, an incendiary and challenging time for the West Coast, for our bodies, and for the body politic.]

I lie around sweating in my underwear
I feel like a turtle, legs in the air
Windows sealed up, it’s a Catch-22
I got the smoky Covid cabin fever heat wave blues

To see my friends requires a garden
But sitting outside is like smoking a carton
So I get on the horn, I blast the bad news
I’ve got the smoky Covid cabin fever heat wave blues

Last time there were fires, my brilliant idea
Was to do all my walking inside IKEA
But I’m too afraid now of coughs and achoos
I got the smoky Covid cabin fever heat wave blues

I’ve got a floor, I’ve got a roof
Some people’s homes go up in a poof
I shouldn’t complain, but I’m coming unglued
It’s the smoky Covid cabin fever heat wave blues

An asteroid’s coming, is that even shocking?
We’re overdue for a deus ex machina
And if that bastard’s still in, we don’t got much to lose
With the smokey Covid cabin fever heat wave blues
The smoky Covid cabin fever heat wave blues

MOUSE TRAP CHEESE
(©2020 Sara Glaser)

[Rote was all he wrote.]

Nashville’s got a stash full of guys like me
Hank and Johnny wannabe’s, hawkin’ their melodies
Shaking every Tennessee tree for the fruits of fame
Trying to sound old with something new
Rockabilly cowpunk bluegrass
Country music’s just three chords and the truth

I came here in my twenties, a heart embroidered on my sleeve
And everything I was writing I believed I truly believed
I cut my teeth here but this town can be ruthless
Thirty years later and I’m toothless

Mouse trap cheese
Corn mush, lots of syrup
Cotton candy lyrics
Three chords and a lie
Gets me by

Verse one, tease ’em with a mystery
Verse two, reveal a little history
Then sucker punch ’em with the right hook,
Check their faces, see how it took
If that bit don’t turn a profit, go straight to the bridge
And toss ’em off it

It’s mouse trap cheese
Corn mush, lots of syrup
Cotton candy lyrics
Three chords and a lie
Gets me by

Stepford groupies see me by the back of the stage
They’re treating me like I’m some kind of sage
’Cause I get three thousand freakin’ plays a minute
I write a bunch a crap, and I’m rolling in it

They say, “Do a songwriter a favor, treat ’em bad”
But I’m well-heeled and whatever wounds I had
I stripped those mines a long time ago
All I trade in now is fool’s gold
Three chords and a lie, and it’s getting old

I give ’em mouse trap cheese
Corn mush drowned in syrup
Smooth as Velveeta lyrics
Three chords and a lie
Gets me by
Three chords and a lie…

DEATH IS GONNA KILL ME
(©2019 Sara Glaser)

[Spawned by mishearing the hook of Richard Thompson’s Iraq war lament, “Dad’s Gonna Kill Me.”]

When I run out of lines
And I’m standing stranded, mute and still
Will I get the hook or be out there ’til
It’s curtains

Another way to go
Just quit and end the show
Act two is done
Three may not be worth watching

When the last few words have been spoken
When the fourth wall has been broken

Death is gonna cast me
Soon or sometime later
Be I an actor or a waiter
He’ll come find me

Does it really matter
When we exit left
Make our smooth or rocky segue
To what’s next

You know, death is gonna kill me
If I choke and miss my mark
Or if I nail it from the start
Death ain’t no critic

“To be or not to be,” is not the question
Unless you’re counting on a resurrection

One day that little trap door
Hiding in the slats
Mmmm
Will spring open

A plain old plot of dirt
Has seeds waiting in the wings
Ready for the brilliant show
Of springtime

And crocuses push through
Ice encrusted ground
To show their pretty purple crowns
Of glory

When the lights go down and the crowd is listening
When the moving colored spots are glistening

I know that death you’re gonna kill me
But I’ve got some more to say
So I’m cheating you today…

GIVE UP THE GHOST
(©2004 Sara Glaser)

[Who among us has never fallen in love with an apparition?]

Saturday night I was devil-may-care
I drank my dinner at the corner dive
Six more down and I was barely alive
And it seemed like Kingdom Come day

I crawled to church on Sunday
And it was there that I found her
A glorious light around her
She called to me from the choir

She said “Give up the ghost, Jordy
“Give up the ghost, Jordy
“Give up your sins, give ’em up to the Lord
“He will take you to the Promised Land
“Just give it up to the Holy Ghost”

On Monday I went to court her
But God must have seen me coming
He had taken my prize from me
She’d passed on the week before

Tuesday I was wretched
For although I did not know her
She was the finest flower
Life had yet laid at my feet

She said “Give up the ghost, Jordy
“Give up the ghost, Jordy
“God will be your shield and sword
“He will take you to the Promised Land
“Just give it up to the Holy Ghost”

Wednesday I did see her
Stretched out like a lover
Soul drifting above her
Still beautiful in death

Thursday she came to me
And she spoke of the sweet hereafter
And in her joyous laughter
Was a melody so dear

She said “Give up the ghost, Jordy
“Give up the ghost, Jordy
“God will be your shield and sword
“He will take you to the Promised Land
“Just give it up to the Holy Ghost”

Give up the ghost
Give up the ghost
Give up the ghost
I can’t give up the ghost

Come to me on Friday
And take me away to Zion
I love you better than the live one
I’ll be with come Saturday night

Haunt me, haunt me every day
Taunt me with your pure pure heart
I can’t give up the ghost ’til I depart
And give it up to the Holy Ghost

No I won’t give up the ghost ’til I depart
And I meet her in the Promised Land.

FIREMAN JIM
(©2020 Sara Glaser)

[If you want someone’s attention, show an interest in what they do.]

Fireman Jim, Fireman Jim
Gonna get a box’a matches so I can see him
Gonna get a jug’a diesel, I can play his game
He’ll come flyin’ like a moth to a flame

’Cause I’m tired of waiting for Jim to strike
I’ll turn my house to ash if that’s what he likes
I’m burning, Jimmy, I’m a red hot coal
Don’t spurn me, Jim, slide down the pole

Hop on your truck, make the engines roar
Pull on the hose, break down my door,
Lift me into your arms, the heat won’t wait
Lay me down on the lawn, resuscitate

Fireman Jim, Fireman Jim
Gonna get a box’a matches so I can see him
Gonna get a jug’a diesel, I can play his game
He’ll come flyin’ like a moth to a flame

I’m a siren, Jimmy, I know what I am
Forget the wife, she don’t know how to fan
The flames of love to a raging inferno
All you got at home is a can of Sterno

Fireman Jim, Fireman Jim
Gonna get a box’a matches so I can see him
Gonna get a jug’a diesel, I can play that game
He’ll come flyin’ like a moth to a flame

When it’s all over, the blaze and the flood
And there’s nothing left but a pile of wet wood
Like Adam and Eve in God’s creation
We’ll live in the garden with your Dalmation

Fireman Jim, Fireman Jim
Gonna get a box’a matches so I can see him
Gonna get a jug’a diesel, I can play his game
He’ll come flyin’ like a moth to a flame
Like a moth to a flame

MEET ME AT THE CHINQUAPIN TREE
(©2019 Sara Glaser)

[A story song about the worries of internet dating as seen through the lens of 1940s Appalachia and its popular murder ballads. I nearly threw the word “tinder” into the lyric, but “kindling” is more fun to sing.]

Poor “Pretty Polly” and little “Omie Wise”
Tempted by charm, deluded by lies
Polly in the woods at the point of a knife
Omie by the river pleading for her life

Meet me by the Chinquapin oak
Got a pick in my pocket, a song in my throat
Banjo on my back, bottle in my pack
Meet me at the Chinquapin tree
Meet me by the Chinquapin tree

Friday night is music at the store
I’m singing with the band, bass, fiddle and guitar
There’s a stranger with a banjo over by the wall
Picking and frailing, he could play them all
Frailing and picking, he could play them all

He met my eyes, he held them so long
That my chest started drumming while I sang my songs
About poor Pretty Polly and little Omie Wise
Tempted by charm, deluded by lies

He played so good, we asked him for a tune
Well, he cocked his head, then he began to croon
He was asking for something, he was aiming straight for me
A rendezvous by the old oak tree
To rendezvous at the old oak tree

He said, meet me by the Chinquapin oak
Got a pick in my pocket, a song in my throat
Banjo on my back, bottle in my pack
Meet me at the Chinquapin tree
Meet me by the Chinquapin tree

I knew to stay away from the traveling sort
They try and take your flower, they’ll lie to you for sport
I’d never been tempted, mother raised me smart
No Blackjack Davey was gonna steal my heart

But now I saw why Omie got drowned
How Polly followed to strange valleys deep
His words like kindling set me aflame
Run to the Chinquapin to carve our names
I could’a run to the Chinquapin to carve our names

But if I’d met him at the Chinquapin oak
He might’a picked my pockets, put his hand to my throat
Put me on my back, pulled a knife from his pack
I didn’t meet him at the Chinquapin tree
I wouldn’t meet him by the Chinquapin tree

He’s long gone, but every time I pass
The Chinquapin, I think of him, how he picked so neat and fast
How my foot was in a trap, my head in a fog
I was popping and crackling like a Chinquapin log
I crackled and popped like a Chinquapin log

He came in one night on my radio
He’s talkin’ ’bout a song he wrote a while ago
“This one’s for a girl with honey-colored eyes
She was singing ‘Pretty Polly’ and ‘Little Omie Wise’

“Meet me by the Chinquapin oak
Got a pick in my pocket, a song in my throat
Banjo on my back, bottle in my pack
Meet me at the Chinquapin tree
Meet me by the Chinquapin tree”

STITCHES
(©2019 Sara Glaser)

[My friend Caroline and I dis­covered when we met that our mothers grew up down the road from each other in southwest Germany in the 1930s. This song tells their stories, and ours.]

When I was twelve, just a kind
Mother took me to Berlin
She’d sewn a gold star to my coat
I’d travel east by train and boat
Her eyes compelled me to have faith
On my journey to the Golden Gate
And when I reached up to hold her
She said, “Mein Liebling, there’ll be an angel at your shoulder”

When I was nine, just a kind
Rebeka Steinberg was my friend
I taught her how to knit and purl
She showed me how to waltz and twirl
Then she vanished overnight
They’d felt the winds and taken flight
I often thought of her as I grew older
And hoped there was an angel at her shoulder

When there’s a wound, where there’s a rend, we make stitches, stitch and mend
Stitches made in blues and greens, wines and pinks and tourmalines
Fuchsia floss, white calico, make flowers reaching through the snow
Dark grays make a stormy shroud, yellow rays burst through the cloud

We’ve passed on to the other side [So fern und doch so nah]
We see our daughters’ stars collide [Leben vereinen]
Lighting up a darkened sky [Licht verdrangt die Nacht]
A sparkly blanket in the night [Und Liebe warmt uns]
They chase their dreams, they sing their songs [Sie singen Lieder]
Find their loves, find where they belong
And should their world grow colder
Each has an angel at her shoulder

When there’s a wound, where there’s a rend, we make stitches, stitch and mend
Arabesques and serpentines, binding with their loops and vines
Golden cord and copper wire, make a phoenix rising from the fire
And silver threads and cotton strings make a pair of angel wings

THINGS I NEVER KNEW
(©2021 Sara Glaser)

[A Zen koan love song.]

I remembered things I never knew
When I saw you, when I first saw you
And I remembered things I’ve never seen
A beautiful dream, like a beautiful dream

Hair across your eyes, playing hypnotized
Hypnotizing me
Lit up from within, way above the din
Of the room you’re in

I remembered things I never knew
When I met you, when I met you
And I remembered things I never took a chance on
A cloud to dance on, clouds to dance on

An easy kind of truth, sipping sweet vermouth
On a summer night
No reason to explain the trials and the pains
That came before

I remembered things I never knew
When I touched you, when I first touched you
And I remembered things I’d never taken
Though I was aching, I was aching

The goodness in your eyes, the surprising ways
They look at me
Your steady beat in time, a song that likes to rhyme
In every line

I remembered things I never knew
When we found a home, when we found a home
Yes, I remembered things I’ve never known

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