Family Folk Machine

Lyrics for Family Folk Machine: Dreaming Iowa, Saturday, May 2, 2026

KEYS TO THE KINGDOM

The Nields, arr. Chris Eastburn

I was making my way through the desert, I was making my way to the sea.

I was making some money for a ticket on a boat when the keys to the kingdom came to me.

No more will you walk as a stranger, no more will you travel alone.

No more will you be without your family; you’ve got the keys to the kingdom, come on home.

You’ve got the keys to the kingdom, come on home.

No more will you be without your family; you’ve got the keys to the kingdom, come on home.

So take me back, take me back, take me way back,

you’ve got the keys to the kingdom, come on home.

Well, I picked up my map and my compass. I left the money for somebody to find.

I’ve got everything I need to make that long journey home.

I had the keys to the kingdom all the time.

I’ve got everything I need to make that long journey home;

I had the keys to the kingdom all the time.

HOME IN IOWA CITY: OUT OF MANY, ONE

Alma Drake and Morgan Brown, arr. Alma Drake and Jean Littlejohn

This is my home, everyone can belong here to find their place like a puzzle fitting together.

A place where you can grow the home that you desire, and be comfortable being who you are.

This is my home, there is no fear. Everyone is welcome here.

And if we work together, everyone can belong. Home in Iowa City: out of many, one.

Iowa City was born in diversity. The world sent its brightest to our university.

I want to be surrounded by a rainbow of friends in a place where kindness never ends.

We could be leaders if we’d all work together. Strength in our numbers, we can be better.

Everyone can speak their mind without fear, and everyone can feel that they belong here.

WILDCAT DEN

Words: Susan Stamnes, Music:  Alma Drake

arr. Alma Drake and Jean Littlejohn

Hummingbird, wings a-blur, rustling wind, shining sun.

Emotion floodgate, river rush, clouds race.

Savor Nature, Nature savior, savor Nature, Nature savior.

Creeping vine, columbine, Sisyphys, uphill climb,

Cave-cool darkness, finding peace of mind.

Steamboat Rock, Devil’s Alley, Fat Man’s Squeeze, down valley,

gravel crunch, gurgle creek, frog moan, hawk screech.

Twig snap, acorn cap, birdsong, pine scent, breathe in, breathe out.

Wildcat Den, day well-spent.

THREE SONGS FROM THE SACRED HARP

Within thy circling power I stand

Words: Isaac Watts, Francis Gurtz, Music: P. Dan Brittain

Within thy circling power I stand, on every side I find thy hand.

Awake, asleep, at home, abroad, I am surrounded still by Love.

In valley or on mountainside, in thy sweet grace I do abide.

By lightning fierce, by brooklet mild, I long to be as Nature’s child.

Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I

Words: Isaac Watts, Music: Daniel Read

Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I, to mourn and murmur and repine

to see the wicked placed on high, in pride and robes of honor shine.

But oh, their end, their dreadful end, thy sanctuary taught me so,

on slippery rocks I see them stand, and fiery billows roll below.

Now shall my inward joys arise

Words: Isaac Watts, Francis Gurtz, Music: William Billings

Now shall my inward joys arise and burst into a song;

Almighty love inspires my heart, and pleasure tunes my tongue.

Such love doth from the spirit flow, to guide our inward sight;

It leadeth hearts to humbly grow and wait upon the Light.

TEND TO OUR GARDEN

FFM kids and Nicole Upchurch

arr. Nicole Upchurch, Hemlock Stanier, and the FFM kids

We use our hands to melt the ice

through love not hate we water seeds and tend to our garden

I have a dream for Iowa

A dream for everyone, a dream that’s never done, let’s tend to our garden

We never knew that we could fly

Until we tried; let’s tend to our garden

The only way to melt the ice is to feel the pain, don’t go numb

seize your strength and overcome

Feel the pain, don’t go numb and tend to your garden

We use our hands to melt the ice

through love not hate we water seeds and tend to our garden

HEARTLAND

Nicole Upchurch, via the Awful Purdies, arr. Jean Littlejohn and Alma Drake

At home, I’m Mexicana; at school, I’m American

We used to live in Sabinas, on the south side of the borderlands

My mother, she is a painter. Her landscapes are vivid and bold

Her dark eyes reflect the memory—recuerdos de Mexico

Y mientras caminamos por las tierras del Norte nuestros corazones apuntan al sur

In the North we may stand, still our hearts are directed south of the borderlands

Abuelito, he worked in the factory for a dollar and a quarter each day

His worn hands a distant memory, maravillas upon his grave

Now our family lives in the Heartland, but our hearts are broken in two

Un pedazo nos mantiene vivos, y el otro enterrado en el sur se quedó (esperando)

A la vida le pedimos que nuestros anhelos; Se llenen de alas para volar en una tierra sin fronteras

I AIN’T GOT NO HOME IN THIS WORLD ANYMORE

Woody Guthrie, arr. Jean Littlejohn and Alma Drake

I ain’t got no home, I’m just a roaming ‘round.  Work when I can get it, I go from town to town.

Police make it hard wherever I may go; and I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

My brothers and my sisters are stranded on this road,

a hot and dusty road that a million feet have trod;

Rich man took our home and drove us from our door,

and I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

Was a-working on the shares, and always I was poor; my crops I laid into the bankers’ store;

My wife took down and died upon the cabin floor, and I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

I mined in your mines, and I gathered in your corn;

I been working, mister, since the day I was born;

Now I worry all the time, like I never done before, ‘cause I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

Now as I look around, it’s mighty plain to see this world is such a great and funny place to be.

Oh, the gambling man is rich, and the working man is poor,

and I ain’t got no home in this world anymore.

IOWA

Donovan Woods and Aoife Maria O’Donovan, arr. Jean Littlejohn

I am waiting for this book to get good; I do not have your patience.

So, I’m driving up to Chicago; I’m getting weird looks at gas stations.

I did not bring a winter coat; I do not have your foresight.

A holistic practitioner told me once it’s why I will not live a long life.

I am trying to remember where I gave up if it was not in Iowa.

Iowa, somewhere in the middle of the middle of the Great Plains I saw

a little girl waving her hand out the window of a car, saying goodbye to her ma.

Iowa, where the tall grass prairie used to ripple like the ocean in the breeze,

and the hummingbird still suckled from the flowers in the trees.

It’d bring you to your knees.

I can imagine my whole life, sweet and never-ending in every house I float by,

but they’d never let me blend in.

I called a taxi in Des Moines; I met him at the corner.

When I asked about his army coat, he said he would not tell a foreigner.

ELIZA JANE

Words: Winthrop Packard, 1895

Music: Rick Spencer and Dawn Indermuehle, arr. Jean Littlejohn

Eliza Jane, she had a wheel, its rim was painted red.

Eliza had another wheel that turned inside her head.

She put the two together, she gave them both a whirl.

And now she rides the Parkway sides, a twentieth-century girl.

“Oh, have you seen Eliza Jane a-cyclin’ in the park?

Have you seen Eliza Jane?” the people all remark.

They shout, “Hi, hi!” as she rides by, the little doggies bark.

For we all have a pain when Eliza Jane goes cycling through the park!

No more do skirts enfold her, tho’ much her Papa grieves,

But baggy trousers hold her in their big pneumatic sleeves.

For where you see the bloomers bloom she sits her wheel astride.

She makes a sight would stop a fight as in the park she rides.

This is emancipation year, the woman movement’s on.

Eliza plans to be a man, ‘tis sad to think upon.

She thinks she needs the ballot now, her freedom to enhance.

She wants to pose in Papa’s clothes: it is for this she pants.

Eliza had a nice young man (alas, ‘twas long ago!),

As gay and fair, as debonair, as any man you know.

He saw her ride in bloomers; he screamed and quickly fled.

And as he ran, this nice young man in trembling accents said:

“Oooh, have you seen Eliza Jane a-cyclin’ in the park?

Have you seen Eliza Jane?” the people all remark.

The shout, “Hi, hi!” as she rides by, the little doggies bark.

For we all have a pain when Eliza Jane goes cycling through the park!

Eliza’s ma no longer speaks unto Eliza Jane;

She claims that dime museum freaks give her a sense of pain.

Her dad no longer cashes checks, but wanders in the streets.

And thus he cries, in sad surprise, to everyone he meets.

“Oh, have you seen Eliza Jane a-cyclin’ in the park?

Have you seen Eliza Jane?” the people all remark.

The shout, “Hi, hi!” as she rides by, the little doggies bark.

For we all have a pain when Eliza Jane goes cycling through the park!

Eliza dear, we sadly fear you have not started right.

You will not see more liberty by being such a fright.

Asylums yawn for you, my dear, and in the books we read

how bloomers that too early bloom soon fade and go to seed.

HARDLY BREAKING

Jeffrey C. Capps, arr. Jean Littlejohn

The beauty came on without a warning, shimmered on the fields, a crystal morning

The creak and hum of workday starting, the soft, sweet sigh of lovers parting

The notion of home is complicated by memories and dreams not replicated

The reservoir of hope runs shallow; parcels of peace, fallow

Hey, is this a place, Tell me now, is this still a place for me?

Hey, is this a place, Tell me now, is this still a place for me?

My head is heavy, hands are shaking; My spirit is tired but hardly breaking

THE RIPPEY DUMPS                   

Words: Susan Stamnes, Alma Drake, and Janet Lessner          

Music:  Alma Drake, arr. Alma Drake and Jean Littlejohn

Iowa used to be a leading light. Our constitution gave each person the same rights.

It wasn’t perfect, but people prospered well until the Rippey Dumps knocked us down that hill.

From the first woman lawyer and desegregated schools we’ve slammed once-open doors

and ended up like fools.

What goes down must come up. What goes out must come in.

It may be darkest before the dawn, but this old world ain’t gonna stop spinning.

Well, in two thousand seven, Civil Rights got a boost.

Iowa Civil Code said, “You can be who you choose.”

But in ‘twenty-five the pearl-clutchers cried

and sent us down in the Rippey Dumps, making law out of lies.

You preach from the bench with a counterfeit grace while justice rides loops in a crooked place.

Back in the seventies we opened the door, took in the weary from a far-distant war.

Now ICE raids tear through factory lots, and down in the Rippey Dumps compassion rots.

We traded welcome signs for walls and fear, and left terrified families on a path unclear.

Not gonna lie, the future looks like a farce

‘cause power clings to power when the haters are in charge.

We can’t just keep living with the status quo

‘cause the Rippey Dumps ain’t nothing compared to that deep hole.

With history and energy on our side, surely we can get on that uphill ride.

What goes down must come up. What goes out must come in.

It may be darkest before the dawn, but this old world ain’t gonna stop spinning.

THE WHOLE TIME

Sam Knutson

arr. Sam Knutson, Alma Drake, and Jean Littlejohn

Sat next to old Bo at the counter, getting lunch the other day.

Said he could see the end of a long road coming, but it won’t show up today.

Take it easy. Keep your head up. Walk the line even if you’re fed up.

Took a walk and a smile to get you what you’re standing on today—brother, it’ll let up.

But it’s gonna take the whole time if you don’t mind, gonna take the whole time if you do.

You can’t tell me nothing I don’t know. I wouldn’t pay them taxes if it wasn’t the law.

Drive ‘em up, move me out. You don’t want to see me go no lower.

They’re going to pave the road to Downey, put up million dollar homes.

It’s the best view in the county. I wish they’d leave us alone.

Well, I got roughed up on my way in, so I ain’t got all I had.

But I made it, so you owe me, and it won’t be all that bad.

But it’s gonna take the whole time if you don’t mind, gonna take the whole time if you do.

WOULDN’T THAT BE NICE

Words: Michael Sauder, Music:  Michael Sauder and Alma Drake

arr. Michael Sauder, Alma Drake, and Jean Littlejohn

Wouldn’t it be nice to recognize all the colors that make the light

All the wings that help us fly when we feel the weight of life

Wouldn’t that be right, wouldn’t that be nice?

Wouldn’t it be nice to empathize with those who might be left behind,

with those who have fallen down and could use a hand to rise

Wouldn’t that be right, wouldn’t that be nice?

Wouldn’t it be nice to harmonize all our voices, low and high

To harmonize what we do with what we pray, to make a kinder place where everyone is safe

Where fires are for keeping warm and pitchforks are for hay

Where stern looks are made with love and truth is on display

Where fields are full, where water’s clean and people have a say

Where every kid can be their self in the light of day

To make a place where we give more than we take away

Wouldn’t that be right, wouldn’t that be nice?

We can stand together, you and I

We can walk together, you and I

We can work together, you and I

We can sing together, you and I

HOW CAN I KEEP FROM SINGING?

Music:  R. Lowry, Words: Anne Warner, 1864

4^th verse:  Alma Drake, arr. Jean Littlejohn

My life flows on in endless song, above earth’s lamentations.

I hear the real though far-off hymn that hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife, I hear that music ringing.

It sounds an echo in my soul, how can I keep from singing?

What though the tempest loudly roars, I hear the truth, it liveth.

What though the darkness ‘round me close, songs in the night it giveth.

No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that rock I’m clinging.

Since love shall reign o’er all the earth, how can I keep from singing?

When tyrants tremble, sick with fear, and hear their death knells ringing.

When friends rejoice, both far and near, how can I keep from singing?

In prison cell and dungeon vile, our thoughts to them are winging.

When friends by shame are undefiled, how can I keep from singing?

So life flows on in endless song, outlasting kings and tyrants.

We raise our voices from our hearts; how could we dare be silent?

No shouts of rage or chilling fear shall stop our freedom ringing.

Since music breathes love to the world, how can we keep from singing?

Dreamer and the Hoping Machine, the Family Folk Machine band, will be performing their inaugural concert on February 26 at the James; doors 6:30, concert time 7-9.

Dreamer and the Hoping Machine is made up of Family Folk Machine directors Jean Littlejohn, Jon Ranard, and Alma Drake, and is rounded out with local music scene powerhouses Laurie Haag, Pappy Klocke, Kylie Buddin, and Geb Thomas, all FFM alumni.

After the Spring 2025 FFM concert, the band decided to become a “regular band,” and to focus on performing many of the songs that have been written by members of the choir, for the choir. They are excited to give these songs new life in this new configuration.

Tickets are on sale through www.thejamesic.com events calendar; $20 GA/$12 students.  https://prod5.agileticketing.net/websales/pages/info.aspx?evtinfo=541192~e7ec740d-8476-44fa-ae88-f8602a65365d&

Contact : Alma Drake

319-651-3654

soundmedicinewoman@gmail.com

Dreaming Iowa is a year-long project exploring Iowa’s inspiring progressive and multicultural past and hopes for the future. We are merely dipping our toes in several of the many ponds and rivers of song that have made up Iowa’s history and present. Here is some background information on the songs we’re singing at our November 9, 2025 concert at the Englert Theatre.

The Power and The Glory

Phil Ochs’s mid-1960s ode to the natural wonders and inspirational ideals of America rings as true today as it did when he wrote it. When the political landscape gets you down, it’s helpful to turn to the natural landscape and to remember what’s good about our country and our state to remind yourself that those good things are worth fighting for. We set the scene for Dreaming Iowa with this song by reminding everyone of some of the brightest moments from Iowa’s history.

Ancient Light

Folk supergroup I’m with Her played at the Englert in June of 2025, and we’ve really enjoyed learning their song “Ancient Light” this fall. The song’s narrator is taking a journey to connect with the past, which is part of what Dreaming Iowa is about. “Ancient Light” won Song of the Year for 2025 from the Americana Music Association.

Archaeology of You/Thoughts of Childhood

Research for Dreaming Iowa began in 2019, and this song comes from a poem that FFMer Susan Stamnes found that year in the Special Collections archive at the University of Iowa. Edwin Ford Piper (1871–1939) (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edwin_Ford_Piper) was a folklorist and poet who taught at the University of Iowa starting in 1905, and “Thoughts of Childhood” is a lyric (with no musical notation) that Susan found in one the collections he made of folk songs from Iowa and the Midwest. Susan took this haunting poem, in which the poet dwells in sweet childhood memories, and added a frame from the perspective of the modern researcher trying to imagine the life of past Iowans.

Unser Quartett!

This rousing song celebrates the tradition of the German Männerchor, men’s choruses who would gather to sing (and drink) and socialize. Jean found the score for this song in the archive of the German American Heritage Center and Museum (https://gahc.org) in Davenport, where the story of German immigration to the Quad Cities in the second half of the nineteenth century is presented in rich detail. With translation help from Sebastian Sauder and versification by Alma Drake, we created an English-language version of the song that we could learn and sing (with some help from the altos covering the high tenor part!).

Wish I Was a Mole in the Ground

 The FFM kids present this traditional song under the leadership of Nicole Upchurch, based on the version by Doc Watson. As part of our study of older musical traditions this fall, the kids built their own instruments with Nicole and Pappy Klocke, some of which will be featured in their performance.

John Henry

This traditional song celebrates the Black freedman and folk hero who beat the steam drill in a head-to-head contest. In our era, the song’s themes of the dignity of work in the face of automation resonate in new ways. We present this song as a tribute to the Black community that has been part of Iowa’s population since the earliest incursion of settlers.

Polly Ann’s Hammer

This song was released in 2019 by Our Native Daughters, a folk supergroup of Black female banjo players: Rhiannon Giddens, Amythyst Kiah, Leyla McCalla, and Allison Russell. The song takes up the verse of “John Henry” that mentions his wife, Polly Ann, and imagines her story. It’s an ode to the strength of Black women. You can watch the songwriters talking about creating this song in this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0_zoaPdUmI  .

Cucurrucucú paloma

We’re excited to welcome guest artist Eugenio Solis to the stage! Eugenio was born in Sombrerete in the state of Zacatecas, in Mexico, and moved to West Liberty in the 1990s. When he was a teenager, he started teaching himself to play guitar so that he could play Beatles and Rolling Stones songs. As he moved through his musical life, he has performed many different styles of music: he works as a church musician and has played in bands playing country music, rock music, and many types of Mexican folk music. In 1996, Eugenio was one of the featured artists for the Smithsonian’s Iowa Sesquicentennial project, representing Iowa at a celebration in Washington, DC and recording two traditional Mexican folk songs for the project. Cucurrucucú Paloma is a beautiful and beloved song in which the singer mourns a loved one who has died and hears their mourning echoed in the song of a dove.

Unsteady Youth

This song was released as part of the Englert’s 2012 “Iowa City Song Project” recording and has been an FFM favorite since we sang it at our first concert in 2013. The song celebrates that bittersweet part of Iowa City culture that is sustained by the students, and especially perhaps the artists and writers, who come to learn and create in this place but also take their leave.

Emma Big Bear

Songwriter and Folk Machinist Susan Stamnes started the lyric for this song after visiting Effigy Mounds National Monument in northeast Iowa. The song celebrates the life and way of life of Emma Big Bear, who came from a long line of chiefs in the Winnebago Nation and lived in the area around Marquette and McGregor, Iowa. You can learn more about Big Bear’s story here:

https://www.emmabigbearfoundation.org .

Deportee

In 1948, a plane carrying migrant Mexican farm workers crashed in Los Gatos Canyon, California. When Woody Guthrie read the news report, he was rightfully indignant that while the crew who perished were named, the workers were not, but instead were simply lumped together as “deportees.” Woody’s song restores dignity to those workers, in the process critiquing an agricultural system that denigrates the people it relies on. Today we see continuing examples of the dehumanization of people who are working and trying to build a better life, and we align our voices with Woody’s in calling for a more humane approach.

You can listen to a recently released recording of Woody Guthrie singing “Deportee” here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPtCU3mgs3I&t=2s.

It’s Time To

Svitlana Volkogon wrote this song about her experience of moving to Iowa from war-torn Ukraine in 2023 with her husband and two young kids. The song explores the difficulties of leaving the life you have created and also the hopefulness of starting again in a new place. Since Svitlana wrote the song, her family has been caught up in U.S. politics, since in January 2025 the U.S. government suspended the humanitarian parole program that brought them to Iowa. We are grateful to Svitlana for sharing her song with the Family Folk Machine, and we will heed the reminder that national policies have real consequences for people’s lives. You can read about the Volkogons’ story here: https://www.kcrg.com/2025/07/31/i9-ukrainian-family-fights-stay-iowa-humanitarian-parole-expires/ .

Czech songs

David Muhlena, librarian at the National Czech and Slovak Museum in Cedar Rapids, connected us with a collection of traditional Czech songs that were recorded on wax cylinders in the first decade of the 1900s. The recordings were passed down through a Czech-descended family that lived in Cedar Rapids, and the museum collaborated with the Rita Benton Music Library at the University of Iowa to digitize the recordings and make them available on the UI’s library website. Translations of the song texts were provided by the National Museum in Prague, and we took these translations and versified them so the FFM could sing the songs in English. Many thanks to the dancers who enhanced the last song! You can read about the recordings here: https://novyfonograf.cz/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/Jedlicka-arsc-2020-katie-buehner-filip-sir-.pdf  and listen to the originals here: https://digital.lib.uiowa.edu/node/73535 .

World to Their Door (The Bily Brothers)

Dave Moore is a local legend, and we’ve really enjoyed singing this song about the Bily Brothers as his backup choir. The Bilys were a Czech-descended family who lived on a farm near Spillville, Iowa, and the brothers carved amazingly intricate clocks in the winter months. The song especially celebrates the strength of the family, caring for the brother who had physical and mental disabilities, and their lack of interest when Henry Ford offered them one million dollars to buy one of their clocks. You can learn more about the Bily family and see images of their clocks (or plan a visit for next summer) here: https://www.bilyclocks.org/visit-us. You can learn more about Dave here: https://www.redhouserecords.com/artists/dave-moore/ or come catch Magic Dust, a tribute show to Dave at the Englert Theatre on Thursday, Dec. 11.

Iowa Waltz

When Greg Brown wrote the Iowa Waltz, it was a different time, with different resonances for this sweet song. We sing it as part of Dreaming Iowa, including some new bits we’ve audaciously added (sorry! folk process!), in a spirit of aspiration.

Can you make a donation to support the mission of the Family Folk Machine? Once a year we turn to our community for financial support. To donate, see the “Donate” menu above, or send a check to

Family Folk Machine

P.O. Box 1421

Iowa City, IA 52244

We’re so excited to share Dreaming Iowa with you this Sunday at 3 pm at the Englert Theatre! The concert is free and open to all, with an opportunity to make a donation to support our work.

Here’s a note that will appear in the program about the performance:

Thank you for joining us today for the first installment of Dreaming Iowa, our year-long look into Iowa’s past and toward our future. What sort of place is Iowa, and what sort of place has it been through its history of statehood? Starting in 2019, a group of Folk Machinists started considering Iowa’s history through traces of our musical past, and what we found was a rich legacy of multiculturalism. We touch the tip of this iceberg in today’s program with nods to the history of Mexican immigration to Iowa (which started in the 1840s), and the waves of Czech and German immigration. We pull in the long history of prosperous Black communities in Iowa with the Black string-band favorite “John Henry,” and we celebrate Iowa heroes like the Bily family in Spillville and Emma Big Bear. We are especially honored to present a song by FFMer Svitlana Volkogon that tells the story of her family’s recent journey from Ukraine to Iowa. We’re already looking forward to the second part of Dreaming Iowa on Sunday, May 3!

We are grateful to the librarians, archivists, and historians who have helped us with this project, including David Muhlena at the National Czech and Slovak Museum & Library, the German American Heritage Center and Museum in Davenport, Felicite Wolfe at the African American Museum of Iowa, Mary Bennett and the State Historical Society of Iowa, the Migration is Beautiful/Barrios Project from the Iowa Women’s Archives, Marty Boller’s “Our Iowa Heritage” site, the Rita Benton Music Library at the University of Iowa, and Special Collections at the University of Iowa.

Save the date for the fall concert edition of Dreaming Iowa:

Sunday, November 9, 3:00 p.m. at the Englert Theatre

Free and open to all—hope to see you there!

Sponsored in part by a grant from Think Iowa City