Howie Newman
WHEN YOU'RE HAPPY          781-662-2616
My Baby Can't Parallel Park
I love my woman with all my soul. She’s smart and pretty, got a heart of gold
She knows how to cook and dresses so fine. I’m so glad that she’s all mine
But no one’s perfect, you know that’s true
There’s just one thing that she can’t do
She tries real hard but misses the mark. My baby can’t parallel park
My baby can’t parallel park. After all these years, she’s still in the dark.
Back and forth, and up on the curb, bumpin’ and grindin’, it gets on my nerves
Rockin’ and rollin’ with all of her heart. My baby can’t parallel park

We drove into town one Saturday morn. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm
Do a little shopping, check out the sales, pick up some food, drop off the mail
"One-hour parking," the street sign said. My baby just shrugged and shook her head
"Just one hour? That’s a disgrace. It takes almost that long to get into the space."

It’s simple geometry, it’s no big deal. Just angle it in and turn on the wheel
Straighten it out and there you are. Lock all the doors, get out of the car
But to her it’s a mystery with nary a clue. It’s just one thing that she can’t do
She’s searching for something like Lewis and Clark. My baby can’t parallel park

Our Kids Aren't Kids Anymore
I’m looking at a two-year-old, big blue eyes and curly hair
Hoping that years from now, I’ll remember being there
And just what it felt like. Now she’s up there on the stage
Dancing up a storm, great big smile and hands that sing
Who could ask for more?  Where did the time go?

Our kids aren't kids anymore. How’d they grow up so fast? I’m not really sure.
Next thing you know, they’re walking out the door. Our kids aren't kids anymore

He was brash and he was loud, full of energy. He could run and he could jump and scamper up a  tree
I still remember. Now he’s tall and mellow, leader of the band
A child no longer that’s for sure, almost a man. Where did the time go?

She’s all grown up and on her own, living far away. He’s college bound and confident, has so much to say.
Where did the time go? Each one is different, yet so much the same
They always seemed to make us proud, each in their own way and they still do

When You're Happy I'm Happy, too
When you’re happy, I’m happy, too.  When you’re happy, I love ya through and through
I’ll gladly clean the attic and even eat tofu
’Cause when you’re happy, I’m happy, too

I’ll express my feelings and I will go to yoga. I will go on nature hikes and I will move to Saratoga
I will watch a foreign film with English subtitles even if it’s four hours long

I’ll watch the Home and Garden Channel. I’ll grin and bear it
I will buy a brand new suit even though I’ll never wear it
I’ll eat at fancy restaurants, order food I can’t pronounce and smile the whole evening through

I’ll do the laundry, I’ll wash the dishes. I will eat whatever you cook …
And I will say that it’s delicious. When you’re talking to me, I’ll listen intently, even if the ballgame is on

When you’re happy, I’m happy, too. When you’re happy, I love ya through and through
It may seem condescending but my love for you is never ending
When you’re happy, I’m happy, too. When you’re happy, I’m happy, too

Low Tech
I’m low tech, I’m old school. Some say I’m nothing but an old fool
I like to keep things simple as a rule. I’m low tech, I’m old school

Each day I get a newspaper, it’s what I read. That’s news on paper, not some fancy little screen
It doesn’t have a keyboard or a little battery but you can take it in the bathtub or anyplace you please

When I buy an album, I like to hold it in my hand, look at all the pictures and read about the band
I’ve still got cassettes and vinyl but make no mistake
I never, ever even thought about buying an eight-track tape

I use my phone for calling people. Imagine that. It won’t play a movie or pull up a map
No information overload and that’s OK ’cause if my car breaks down, I’ll just call Triple A

The Ballad of Mike Hessman (Minor League Home Run King)
If you mention Mike Hessman, that name might not ring a bell
But he's a legend in his own right with a grand story to tell
He hit more home runs than any minor leaguer ever did
It took dedication, heart and soul, and a ton of grit

He just kept playing 'cause he loved it, living out his dream
Playing baseball for a living ever since he was eighteen
The years flew by just like the wind, he never lost that thirst
Becoming minor league home run king was a blessing and curse

It started out in Macon, young Mike just had no fear
Nineteen ninety seven, he hit 21 that year
Danville, Greenville and Myrtle Beach along the way
The homers kept a-coming on the road to Triple-A

The year that Mike tuned 30, he was still in Triple-A
Then 31 and 32, the time just slipped away
He played in Mexico and Japan, Venezuela, too
Sixteen teams in 20 years 'til fin'lly he was through

Did Mike ever make the majors? The answer is yes
He had cups of coffee with the Braves, the Tigers and the Mets
Fourteen big-league homers, five seasons in the show
With a little luck, he might've stuck. I guess we’ll never know

©2016 Howie Newman, Chin Music (BMI)