a space for previews, teasers, and works in progress

“Motel,” words and music by Alan Shaw

Sung at a private musicale in New York city, March 2007. Holly Weiss, alto, Rob Hollander, tenor, Everett Patterson, bass.

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Rain streaks a burro made of plaster,
And falls from the sombrero of his master.
The red roof-tile and cactus mimic
A sleepy town south of the border.
What in its day was tawdry gimmick
Gleams like the relics of a fading order.

For his dry fantasy the owner
Inherited the loser and the loner:
Road salesmen who, like ancient traders,
Sailed into any port they saw,
Victims of leaky radiators,
And many on the wrong side of the law.

But now, abandoned to the rains,
A luster to his enterprise remains,
More than the coin it paid him in.
The dust of his imagination
Has run to mud; its fruits begin
To brighten towards that sunny destination.