“The Great Irregular Circle” was a phrase coined by Sean Mahoney in one of his poem/lyrics that he scribbled in my journal. I took that lovely phrase as the title, cannibalized his few stanzas of verse, and added more lyrics, a melody, and a story. And I had a grand idea that it would be the centerpiece of a Broadway musical about fallen super-heroes (a show I never wrote). And I needed a woman to sing it, because in the proposed musical it was meant to be sung by a young woman, singing to her aged father, the former super-hero, who was never there for her; no way was I gonna sing this. I was delighted to have my dear friend Leslie Mitts, a wonderful actress, agree to sing this vocal; she learned the song in a few days and sang it beautifully in one take. You can also hear the great Ron E. Woods on drums kit, plus me on the piano and fretless bass. This was recorded in a cold garage, near Old Fig Garden, shortly before Christmas in December 1989.
lyrics
THE GREAT IRREGULAR CIRCLE - from a poem by Sean Mahoney, adapted into lyrics by Nate Butler, music by Nate Butler
This will be the last letter I deliver ...
Do you remember reading maps, but skipping the legends?
Common sense seemed to trickle out of your fingers
As you requested
By the powers invested in your chest, you bested not only your parameters
But challenged The Great Irregular Circle
Swashbucklers never buckle, and hitters live for hitting
Nobody beats the Crusader For Peace
What becomes of families alone, watching clocks a-ticking?
You know that mutiny is punishable only by death ... that's the way we do it out West
Do you remember fighting to meet the divine?
... While all that I fought were these demons of mine
We'd meet over wine ... sometimes I think that was the only time you were mine.
Then the phone would ring;
and you would bring a lot of flowers the next time you came
-- whenever that was
Saying I was too sweet to be in The Great Irregular Circle!
Swashbucklers never buckle, and only cut-throats scuttle
This is a ship with a mission to make!
"What becomes of mutineers?" asked the novice -- his rebuttal:
You know that mutiny is punishable only by death ... that's the way we do it out West
Then the phone would ring;
and you would bring a lot of flowers the next time you came
-- whenever that was
Saying I was too sweet to be in The Great Irregular Circle!
Swashbucklers never buckle, and hitters live for hitting
Nobody beats the Crusader For Peace
What becomes of families alone, watching clocks a-ticking?
You know that mutiny is food for regret ... a dinner
Swashbucklers never buckle, and only cut-throats scuttle
This is a man with a promise to keep!
"What becomes of mutineers?" asked the novice -- his rebuttal:
You know that mutiny is punishable only by death ... that's the way we do it out West
You thought that every circle traced every space, you ought to know!
... You're a rail-roaded hero
You thought that every circle traced every space, you ought to know!
This is regret ... a sliver.
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