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THIS BOY WALKS INTO MY HOUSE
AND HE TELLS ME THAT I’M GOING CRAZY
HE SAYS ONLY HE HAS THE KEY
AND HE TELLS ME HE KNOWS HOW TO SAVE ME
I SHOW HIM THE DOOR I GIVE HIM THE BOOT
CAUSE HE DOESN’T OWN ME
ALL OF A SUDDEN HE’S LOOKIN’ REAL CUTE
AND I WONDER WHAT HE CAME TO SHOW ME

HE SAYS “SHOULD I STAY?”
I SAY, “WHAT THE HEY!”

ASK ME HOW MUCH I CARE – I DON’T CARE
ASK ME NOW WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO
ASK ME HOW MUCH I CARE – I DON’T CARE
I DON’T CARE – DO YOU?

WE TALK ON THE PHONE EVERY DAY BUT OUR CONVERSATION’S SPACEY
I TELL HIM I NEED TO BE LOVED, BUT HE TELLS ME THAT HE’S TOO LAZY
I SHOW HIM THE DOOR I GIVE HIM THE BOOT
BUT THERE’S NO DENYING
WE BOTH KNOW THERE’S A PROBLEM HERE BUT WHICH ONE OF US IS LYING?

YOU SAY YOU’LL BE GOOD
EVEN IF YOU COULD. . .

ASK ME HOW MUCH I CARE – I DON’T CARE
ASK ME NOW WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO
ASK ME NOW IF I CARE – I DON’T CARE
I DON’T CARE – DO YOU?

THIS WORLD IS BIG, AND WE’RE JUST LITTLE
MOLECULES OF DUST AND DRIBBLE

ASK ME HOW MUCH I CARE – I DON’T CARE
ASK ME NOW WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO
ASK ME NOW IF I CARE – I DON’T CARE
I DON’T CARE – I DON’T CARE
DO YOU?

© ART & ROBIN’S MUSIC, 2009

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IN THE DARKEST HOUR
OF THE DARKEST NIGHT
COMES THE FAINTEST GLIMMER
OF THE FAINTEST LIGHT
AND THE LIGHT GETS STRONGER
AND BECOMES A FLAME
AND YOUR HEART’S ON FIRE
WHEN HE CALLS YOUR NAME

IT MUST BE LOVE
OH, IT MUST BE LOVE
IT MUST BE LOVE
SENT FROM ABOVE –
IT MUST BE NEVER-ENDING LOVE
IT MUST BE HEAVEN SENDING LOVE
IT MUST BE LOVE
OH, IT MUST BE LOVE.

WHEN YOUR SOUL IS WEARY
OF THE HUMAN RACE
AND YOUR EYES ARE TEARY
AND YOU’VE LOST YOUR PLACE
BUT YOU KNOW HE’S WAITING
WAITING THERE FOR YOU
WHEN YOU FIND EACH OTHER
IT’S LIKE YOU ALWAYS KNEW

(CHORUS)

THERE IS NO QUESTION
THERE IS NO DOUBT
THIS IS THE ONE YOUR SHIPWRECKED
HEART HAS DREAMED ABOUT

(INST.)

(DOUBLE CHORUS)

© ART & ROBIN’S MUSIC, 2008

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The deep, crooning baritone you hear at the beginning and end of “Forgotten Songs” is actually a 1993 recording of my father, Philip Brourman singing one of his own tunes, “Gambler’s Blues”; a song he wrote during his time as a P.O.W. in Germany during World War II. (He is accompanied by my sister, Michele Brourman, a brilliant songwriter herself). Daddy used to say that songwriting was only one of several strategies he and his buddies came up with to keep their sanity during that awful time. (They also formed a men’s chorus and gambled trading cigarettes and Red Cross rations. Daddy was an avid card player throughout his life).
Soon after Daddy came home from the war, he put away his songwriting, opting instead to go into business with his brothers to support his family. But he sang all his life, and it is not an exaggeration
to say that he sang “to drown out sorrow in melody and verse”. Daddy had a real gift, not only for
singing, but for writing, but like so many of his generation, he could never see music as a serious career path.

“Forgotten Songs” is a tribute to my father and to the gift of music he passed down to his children and even to his grandchildren. In the end, every song matters, whether it finds an audience of millions or an audience of one, and everyone in their own way has their own song to sing — the light they carry to “make the world a better place, line by line by line”.

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FORGOTTEN SONGS

FAR FROM HOME, ACROSS THE SEA, A PENCIL IN HIS HAND,
A SOLDIER WAGED HIS BATTLE WITH DESPAIR
FINALLY SOMEONE SAID THE WAR WAS OVER,
BUT HE LEFT HIS NOTEBOOKS THERE. . .
SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WINDING PATH, HIS ROAD DROPPED OUT OF SIGHT
AND HE HAD TO MAKE HIS WAY BACK HOME, WITH JUST THE FAINTEST LIGHT

MY FATHER WROTE FORGOTTEN SONGS THAT NO ONE EVER HEARD
HE SANG TO DROWN OUT SORROW IN MELODY AND WORD
I AM MY FATHER’S DAUGHTER – I HAVE MUSIC IN MY VEINS
MY BONES ARE MADE OF VERSES
AND MY HEART BEATS – MY REFRAIN.

I PUT MY LYRICS IN A BOOK AND I KEEP THEM OUT OF SIGHT
AFRAID I’LL FIND OUT WHAT THEY REALLY MEAN
THE DEVIL’S IN THESE ADVERBS AND THESE ADJECTIVES
BUT THERE’S SALVATION IN BETWEEN. . .
SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WINDING PATH MY ROAD DROPS OUT OF SIGHT
BUT I’M BOUND TO MAKE MY WAY BACK HOME CARRYING THIS LIGHT.

MY FATHER WROTE FORGOTTEN SONGS THAT NO ONE EVER HEARD
HE SANG TO DROWN OUT SORROW IN MELODY AND WORD
I AM MY FATHER’S DAUGHTER – I HAVE MUSIC IN MY VEINS
MY BONES ARE MADE OF VERSES
AND MY HEART BEATS – MY REFRAIN.

AND EVEN IF IT’S ONLY FOR A TINY BIT OF TIME
WE MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE
LINE BY LINE BY LINE. . .

MY FATHER WROTE FORGOTTEN SONGS THAT NO ONE EVER HEARD
HE SANG TO DROWN OUT SORROW IN MELODY AND WORD
AND I AM MY FATHER’S DAUGHTER – I HAVE MUSIC IN MY VEINS
MY BONES ARE MADE OF VERSES
AND MY HEART BEATS – MY REFRAIN
(SKIP THIS LINE)
MY BONES ARE MADE OF VERSES
AND MY HEART BEATS MY REFRAIN.

© ART & ROBIN’S MUSIC, 2008

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We live in Los Angeles, actually, in the East San Fernando Valley, close to Burbank. We are about ten miles inland, so although our climate is affected by the ocean breezes, we are not close enough to fully appreciate them on a day-to-day basis. About two years ago I was at a conference in Santa Monica, and on my lunch break, I walked the three blocks from the hotel to the Pacific. It had been a long time since I had gone to the beach, and it was such an amazing experience. It was a partly sunny day with just a hint of cloud cover, the ocean was green and glorious and the gulls were circling overhead, making their distinctive sounds. I could smell the saltwater and feel the rhythm of the ocean waves in sync with my own heartbeat. I couldn’t believe we lived so close to all this beauty, and yet were separated from it every day. I thought, “It’s like turning your back on God!”. So a couple of years later, that whole experience came back to me, and I began to ruminate on the idea of living by the sea. Art and I shared thoughts about the kind of home we could envision. A beautiful “cottage by the sea” – nothing grand, but a warm, sturdy little house “hard by” the water’s edge. A place where we could grow old together. That’s how this song, reminiscent of a sea chantey, was born.

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COTTAGE BY THE SEA

WE FOUND A COTTAGE BY THE SEA
BUILT IN NINETEEN-TWENTY-THREE
WITH STURDY WINDOWS, WALLS AND FLOOR
AND ROSES ALL AROUND THE DOOR
WE SHOUTED OUT, “WE’LL TAKE IT”!
AND SIGNED THE DOTTED LINE
WE KNEW THAT WE WOULD LIVE THERE
UNTIL THE END OF TIME

WE PAINTED IT IN WINTER WHITE
BATHED IN EARLY MORNING LIGHT
WE PLANTED IT IN TREES AND SOD
IT MADE US FEEL SO CLOSE TO GOD
THEN WE HAD THE CHILDREN
THEN WE LET THEM GO
YOU THINK THEY’LL STAY FOREVER
BUT YOU NEVER REALLY KNOW

AND OH – WHEN THE TIDE COMES UP WE SAY
“IF IT GETS TOO WILD
WILL IT SWALLOW US SOMEDAY”?

OUR BEACH IS GETTING SMALLER NOW
IT DOESN’T MATTER, ANYHOW
SOME DAY IT’S GOING TO DISAPPEAR
AND WE’LL BE SWEPT AWAY FROM HERE
BUT ON SOME DISTANT SHORELINE
ANOTHER FAMILY
WILL SIGN ON FOR FOREVER
IN THEIR COTTAGE BY THE SEA

AND OH – WHEN THE TIDE
COMES UP THEY’LL SAY
“IF IT GETS TOO WILD
WILL IT SWALLOW US SOMEDAY”?

WE FOUND A COTTAGE BY THE SEA. . .

© Art and Robin’s Music, 2007

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