The Making Of | Song By Song | Composer Bio |Lyrics
Press: Photos of Steve with John Lennon's Piano

New World Waking



Lyrics by Steve Schalchlin (except where noted)

Prologue: New World Waking

(Lyrics by Steve Schalchlin & Rev. Peter J. Carman)

I dreamed last night that all the gods from Zeus to Jesus Christ

Did a power dinner somewhere in Japan.

I was in the corner playing cocktail songs all night

And drinking vodka stingers from a can.

And in my dream I noticed they weren't drinking very much,

And none of them were saying anything.

And soon the waitress left the room ‘cause none of them were buying,

But all of them were crying, as I raised my voice to sing:

There is a New World waking. There is a New World waking.

Then a voice said it was time to start the trial,

And the gods around the table were now bound.

Their hands and feet were frozen and the mouths were now sealed shut,

And I was much too horrified to make a sound.

And deep inside I wondered who could do this sort of thing,

And then at once their eyes all turned to me.

They wanted me to find a brand new anthem.

They said there was a song that held the key.

There is a new world waking, though nations fail to hear.

There is a world of justice unstained by power or fear.

And though the mighty traffic in greed and pain somehow,

There is a new world waking within my heart right now.

So I decided to accept this noble quest to find this song

Though I knew I might be out there on my own.

But somehow I felt somebody would be watching over me

And I would not be doing this alone...


Gabi’s Song: Will It Always Be Like This?

Will it always be like this? Will it always be like this?

She found some words left in his notebook.

The only clue he left behind.

And from the words left in his notebook

She saw into his tortured mind.

Fear was hanging in the air.

He left a simple questionnaire:

Will it always be like this?

Is everything set in stone?

Is there nothing I can change?

Will I always be alone?

Will it always be like this?

Is everything set in stone?

Is there nothing I can fix?

Will it always be like this?

She took the notebook from his bedroom.

Cause he would never write again.

She wondered, could his words mean something

In lives of other kids like him?

Her plan then came crystal clear

With his words ringing in her ear. (refrain)

So she went out on the Internet, and radio and Rikki Lake

And told the story of her young son, Bill.

Cause she knew his life could stand for something still. She said:

"If we let it stay like this, then we have hearts of stone.

There is so much we can change. We're not in this fight alone.

It will never stay like this. We will never stop the fight.

We could stand with pride, we won’t run and hide. No, no, no, no.”

Will it always be like this? Oh. Oh. Will it always be like this?

Billy Tipton’s Song: Brilliant Masquerade

(Lyrics by Paul Zollo)

She was Oklahoma born, she was Dorothy at the start,

And no one knew the truth she kept in her secret heart,

She was a tomboy in the reeds, she was a cowboy on the range,

Born into a girl's body with a dream that she could change.

She took the road less traveled on where old boulevards diverged.

Billy Tipton came to life and Dorothy submerged.

To old Joplin town he ran before his dreams became undone.

He became a happy man, at least in the eyes of everyone.

And he swung a magic wand as the old piano played,

And nobody saw beyond his brilliant masquerade.

Five times a woman was his wife from Kittie Oakes to Nonnie Earl,

And Billy lived a double life to be the boy inside the girl,

And Kittie's heart was heaven sent, she'd resurrect old broken toys,

And to the orphanage they went to adopt three baby boys.

Between a woman and a man, between the magic and mirage,

There was the passion in the dark, there was the kiss of camouflage,

He played the ragtime jellyroll, and nobody ever got wise

To see through the secret of his soul under his beautiful disguise.

Nobody lifted up his lid. Nobody learned his given name.

His identity stayed hid until the paramedics came,

And found the song he never wrote and heard the tune he couldn't play,

When they cut off his overcoat on the day he passed away.

And some of his dreams would not come true.

And some of his songs would not be played.

Nobody saw beyond his brilliant masquerade.

Joe’s Song: Dead Inside

(Inspired by blogger Joe Jervis – Joe.My.God.)

Poetry is meaningless with no one there to hear.

Demons have no power if I can drown them in a beer.

Memories are empty so they have no need to hide.

There is nothing left to hurt when you are dead inside.

If you put your faith in me you're nothing but a fool.

Like a diver jumping off into an empty pool.

Go ahead and save me like so many who've tried.

You'll find out just like they did how I'm just dead inside.

Now the thought has hit me, you have seen my type before.

That's what drew you over when you saw me at the door.

You think if you go with me you'll find a place to hide

And I'll help you kill off all the things that hurt inside.

Are you still susceptible to whispers in the dark?

Funny how such things can almost leave a lasting mark.

Leap into these lizard eyes, you'll see they've never lied.

What's the point of lying when you've long been dead inside?

Tell me does it thrill you just to know I'm dead inside?


The Politician’s Song: Franco Ate The Paperwork

Franco ate the paperwork. Hitler ate the pen.

Mussolini ate the table with a naughty grin.

Jesus left a messy stain that Mary didn't clean

But everyone agreed that it should be encased and seen.

The emperor was falling down the day he lost his voice.

Divinity's a fleeting thing. His enemies rejoice.

So hide the kiddies underground and put away your toys.

Listen to the media interpret all the noise.

Now the world is upside down as Fascists come around.

All dressed up in Jesus clothes and kissing holy ground.

Look at all the headlines of the stars who get divorced

Crowding off the stories of the kings who rule by force.

Pay off all the journalists and shut down all dissent.

Listen to the radio and try to pay the rent.

Take a side and never listen. What would be the point?

Start a blog and do a dance and smoke another joint.

Drift into a world where all the poor pay all the bills

Watch the sultan build a palace way up in the hills.

Tell the people all the good he's doing just for them.

Living in the gutters while they wait to touch his hem.

Halliburton's daddy did he thing with such panache.

She was always loaded down with buckets full of cash.

Franco ate the paperwork but nothing dies away.

The legacy of violence continues to this day.

Franco ate the paperwork but got a tummy ache.

Hitler's got a brand new face and I just want a break.

Song Of The Reluctant Soldier: I Enter This Battle Gravely

(Based on the Tao Te Ching 32)
If I'm pushed into a battle I guess I'd have to fight.

Sometimes you have to take a stand defending what is right.

But my enemies aren't demons. They're human just like me.

I will not delight in the slaughter or rejoice in the victory.

I enter this battle gravely and I come with only sorrow

If I have to think this war today will still be here tomorrow.

I enter this battle gravely. There's no smile upon my face,

As I take my place.

Weapons are my last resort. They are the tools of fear.

The peaceful ones avoid them and never want them near.

But if I have to fight, then I will fight,

'Cause there are some things in this life worth fighting for.

Oh, I enter this battle gravely and I come with only sorrow

If I have to think this war today will still be here tomorrow.

Oh, I enter this battle gravely. There's no smile upon my face.

As I take my place. Oo, I enter this battle gravely.

Fighting for peace with justice. Justice with peace.

Peace with justice. Justice with peace.

I enter this battle gravely. I enter this battle gravely.

The Media’s Song: War By Default

When the drumbeat for a war becomes relentless

Cause media is hungry for a story.

Something they can illustrate with graphics

That picture lots of gossip, guts and glory.

When the hero of the day's a politician

Or a technocrat behind some office door.

A chickenhawk who never held a rifle.

But sends our sons and daughters off to war.

With no declarations ever made or resolutions passed

You can take it to the bank and you can lock it in a vault.

So many end up dying when it's

War by default. War by default.

With our leaders bought and sold by corporations

That profit from a war that has no ending.

When violence is just a demographic

The marketers will chase to up the spending.

When terror's just another thing you click on.

When radio's a Fascist talking mouth.

When people think that peace is just too boring.

And the K. K. K. is governing the South.

Though it's hard to think this time has come.

It seems it fin’ly has.

So we jump into the fire and cover wounds with salt it's

War by default. War by default.

With Putin, Doctor Phil and Doctor Laura.

Neo-Nazis, spam and right wing blogs.

Spyware, interstitials and religion.

AOL and bloated bandwidth hogs.

Kim Jong Il, Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter.

Columbine, Dick Cheney and James Dobson.

Ahmadinejad and Sarah Palin.

All we get's a choice named after Hobson.

It's a really sad affair when all the world is so damn lame

That it's fin'ly come to this.

That you cannot call a halt when it's

War By Default. War By Default.

Song Of Religious Violence: Holy Dirt

The martyr wore a jacket bomb to kill the infidels around.

He said the people in this place do not belong on holy ground.

The rocket came from nowhere 'cause they said the martyr forced their hand.

Children are collateral when fighting over sacred sand.

The tour guide said the prophet died around here somewhere we forget.

A tourist raised his hand and said his body's on the Internet.

His fingers are on eBay and his bones are all on AOL.

A couple hundred dollars and you'll never have to burn in hell.

If his body's holy what does that entail?

It means that people think redemption's up for sale.

I raised my hand and asked the guide why holy lands have so much hurt.

Is it 'cause we still believe there's such a thing as holy dirt.



Some people ask, "Where's the Muslim Gandhi?"
I ask, "Why does the next Gandhi have to be Muslim?"

If being Gandhi is such a great job,
Why don't you do it?
Imagine what would happen if
America's Christianity came from the
Martin Luther King side of the family
Instead of the TV evangelist side?
Where's the TV evangelist Gandhi?
I came up with a perfect two part test
To tell if a religion is true or not:
What does it makes its people do.
And what does it make its people do to everyone one.

Non-violent resistance has never failed
And holy places don't get blown up

If this land is holy what does that imply?

It means that God wants everyone to bleed and die.

I said there's not a grain of sand worth any girl or boy.

But somehow in our twisted mind the killing turns to joy.

We watch it like a football game and wait for it on CNN

'Cause winning's somehow everything and they'll rerun it all again.

I said if we really found it holy we would find a way

To treat each other better than the way it's being done today.

On Fox the other night somebody said we were on high alert.

Redemption's up for sale again and now we're all just holy dirt.


Lazarus Come Out

(Lyrics by Rev. Peter J. Carman)

As from the tomb stepped Lazarus, a man drawn back from death

I looked into the sunshine and I drew a ragged breath

In pain I had sought slumber, bone weary and alone

Until at last you found me and rolled away the stone

Time to come out!

Lazarus, come out into the light, into the light of day,

Time to come out! Lazarus, come out.

Time to come out into the light of day.

You made the sacrifice it took to reach me where I lay.

You took the time to find me when you could have walked away.

Now I’m no longer caught in anger, trapped within some game.

You raised me from the ashes when you called me by my name.

I pray for all the children whose lives are cloaked in shame.

I pray for all whose hatred drives them to pointless blame.

I pray for greater courage to stand and face the crowd.

I made a sacred promise to sing this love out loud.

William’s Song

William was a boy in Arkansas, a little bit different.

In redneck country this was not very cool.

So, they called him a fag and they called him a queer.

Then they jumped him on the sidewalk after school.

Tell me why does it take five great big guys to beat up one little queer?

Tell me why does it take five great big guys to beat up one little queer?

What do they fear? What do they fear?

William's mom got in her car and drove to the man in charge.

He said, “Boys will be boys here in this school.”

She said, “Where does it say that the victim gets the blame?”

Then she asked him if he thought she was some fool.

Tell me why does it take five great big guys to beat up one little queer?

Tell me why did you let five great big guys beat up on my only son?

What had he done? What had he done?

He said "It's William's fault, for walkin' so funny.”

She said, "That's gonna cost you money!"

So she sued the Board, and she won the case.

And the judge got pissed, and the school disgraced.

There were TV crews, yeah, and Fayetteville made the news.

'Cause reporters will be reporters.

And the boys will have to act like men,

Or they'll be inside that courtroom again.

And bigots everywhere will start to fall.

'Cause of one young boy and a mother in Arkansas. Yeah!

My Thanksgiving Prayer

(Lyrics by Rev. Peter J. Carman)

In this time of my thanksgiving as my song begins to rise

Listen to the prayer within me, look into my grateful eye.

May I humbly stand before you as I reach out with my hand.

May the music bring a healing to this cold and troubled land.

In this time of my Thanksgiving.

In this time of my Thanksgiving.

God of love who made apostles out of every clan and race,

In this time and in this valley you are there in every face.

As I face the burnished offerings to the gods of power and fear,

Make of me a living offering, let me be your servant here.

Give us grace to face the struggle, which the world yet holds in store,

Walk beside us ever loving, grant us peace for evermore.

This time grant us peace. This time, grant us peace.


(Lyrics by Steve Schalchlin & Rev. Peter J. Carman)

As I finished my dream I began to wake up.

Or at least I believe that's the case.

And I thought of the symbols that I had been dreaming.

What I'd been unwilling to face.

Was I testing God or was God testing me?

Or was God testing me or was I testing God?

Well, either way my life had now been awakened

And I realized something quite odd.

That one person really is all that it takes.

Committees and groups, though, may try.

No, somehow it must always comes down to one person

Or the human condition will gradually worsen.

Not him and not her, Lord, but I...

Now let us sing rejoicing filled with the world so new,

And claim for ours a vision, a dream we're making true.

There is a new world waking, though nations fail to hear,

There is a world of justice unstained by power or fear,

And though the mighty traffic in greed and pain somehow,

There is a new world waking within my heart right now.

My Rising Up

(Lyrics by Rev. Peter J. Carman)

My rising up,

My walking path lie within your gaze.

If morning wings bear me afar, the shining seas become my home,

Even in the distance there, I know your love will lead me on.

And if I start to turn away and fall into the deepest night,

Shadows will turn light as day, 'cause darkness cannot fight the light.

My rising up.