Poetry and Lyrics

[Fflow]

two that make me blush

There is this small little movie that came out in the 70's called The Wicker Man. If you've never seen it, it is an interesting study of conflict between christian and pagan beliefs, as told in the form of a murder investigation. There is a scene in the film where Brit Eckland (?) is naked, in her room, practically begging for the main character, a devout christian, to come fuck her. In this scene she sings this song:

WILLOW'S SONG
from The Wicker Man

Heigh ho ! Who is there ?
No one but me, my dear.
Please come say, How do ?
The things I'll give to you.
By stroke as gentle as a feather
I'll catch a rainbow from the sky
And tie the ends together.

Heigh ho ! I am here
Am I not young and fair ?
Please come say, How do ?
The things I'll show to you.
Would you have a wond'rous sight
The midday sun at midnight ?

Fair maid, white and red,
Comb you smooth and stroke your head
How a maid can milk a bull !
And every stroke a bucketful.


Now, to a more modern song...

I found this on a soundtrack CD for the film City of Angels. I've never seen the movie, and don't know if it appeared elsewhere.

FEELIN LOVE
Paula Cole

Love, love

You make me feel like a sticky pistil...
leaning into a stamen
You make me feel like a mister sunshine...
Himself
You make me feel like splendor in the grass...
While we're rollin'
Dance with me baby
You make me feel like the Amazon's runnin' between...
my thighs

CHORUS:

You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love, love
You make me feel love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love

You make me feel like a candy apple
All red and horny
You make me feel like I wanna be a dumb blonde
In a centerfold, the girl next door
And I would open the door and...
I'd be all wet
With my tits soaking through this tiny little t-shirt...
That I'm wearing
And you would open the door and tie...
Me up to the bed

Chorus

Lover, but I don't know who I am
Am I Barry White? Am I Isis? Ohhh...
Lover, I'm laced with your unconscious
Oh baby babe babe baby
I will be your Desdemona ahhhhh...

Take your time

You make me feel Ahaa
You make me feel WooWoo baby
You make me feel Ahaa mmm
You make me feel loved

 

[Trent_Dutch]

There is this small little movie that came out in the 70's called The Wicker Man. If you've never seen it, it is an interesting study of conflict between christian and pagan beliefs, as told in the form of a murder investigation. There is a scene in the film where Brit Eckland (?) is naked, in her room, practically begging for the main character, a devout christian, to come fuck her. In this scene she sings this song:

Oh Man, I loved that film. And still do. Edward Woodward's bad Scottish accent and Cristopher Lee in Drag.... brilliant. And the Endings a doozy....

On Sacrifice:
"Animals are fine, but their acceptability is limited. A small child is even better, but not nearly as effective as the right kind of adult"

The film is actually quite close to the reality of the Scottish Western Isles. Honest. Ok, they don't sacrifice people and dance round maypoles... that much (MayPole dancing is traditionally thought of as English however, although it has strong Pagan roots).

I've never been out to the actual Summer Isles, near Loch Broom on the Inner Hebrides. But I've spent alot of time around Ullapool, Durness, Balnakeith, and (my favourite place name) Auchitilbuie, trying to catch surf, as well as a few trips to the Hebrides proper. They're all pretty much Heathens out that way, not Pagans. Theres a few shitty little collective communes (they would probably have the tag 'Hippy' if they weren't such wretched little people. Sickening pseudo socialists), and no doubt there is some residual Calvinism, shrinking and receding like the dieing cancer it is.

Most of the songs from the film are actually reworded versions of old English folk songs, from a Victorian collection by a man called Sharpe.... The Landlords Daughter has to be my favourite.... sung early in the film (I think just as Seargent Howie arrives in the 'GreenMan'), it sets the seen and the situation (and Howies opposition to it) very well indeed.... Also, the title and subject matter are probably enough to get any (Scots)man's blood going... a Lassie, whose Faither owns a Pub!!! Thats a guid catch.....


The LandLords Daughter

Much has been said of the strumpets of yore
Of wenches and bawdy house queens by the score
But I sing of the baggage that we all adore,
The Landlord's Daughter ...
... You'll never love another
Although she's not the kind of girl
To take home to your mother ...
The Landlord's Daughter ...
... Her ale it is lively and strong to the taste
It is brewed with discretion and never with haste
You can have all you like If you swear not to waste
The Landlord's Daughter ...
... And, when her name is mentioned
The parts of every gentleman
Do stand up at attention ...
The Landlord's Daughter ...
... Oh, nothing can delight so
As does the part that lies between
Her left toe
And her right toe ...
The Landlord's Daughter ...

 

[Fflow]

Wicker Man

My wife has a bit of a spiritual side to her, and is interested in non-traditional belief systems. I showed her the film, and she had the exact opposite reaction to it that 'straight' viewers of the day were intended to have. I think that the film makers imagined that most folks would be sympathetic to the Inspector and shocked by the pagan antics of the locals. Instead, my wife felt drawn to their simple agrarian lifestyle, until the end. She was really quite shocked by the end of the film.

Even though, in many ways, it is a B horror flick, it has a quality to it that, in my mind, is very rare. The cinematography is beautiful, the story is told gently, and plays nicely with one's expectations. It also has a kind of eroticism that isn't often found, one that is perhaps more powerful because of its innocence. I also like the way they are costantly giving the Inspector ways to escape his fate but, each time, his faith or his resolve forces him toward it.

Sorry for digressing from the thread theme...

Gently Johnny - Paul Giovanni

I put my hand on her knee
And she says, do you want to see?
I put my hand on her breast
And she says, do you want a kiss?
Gently, gently...
Gently Johnny...
Gently Johnny, my jingaloo...

I put my hand on her thigh
And she says, do you want to try?
I put my hand on her belly
And she says, do you want to fill me?
Gently, gently...
Gently Johnny...
Gently Johnny, my jingaloo...

 

[Angeline]

My wife has a bit of a spiritual side to her, and is interested in non-traditional belief systems. I showed her the film, and she had the exact opposite reaction to it that 'straight' viewers of the day were intended to have. I think that the film makers imagined that most folks would be sympathetic to the Inspector and shocked by the pagan antics of the locals. Instead, my wife felt drawn to their simple agrarian lifestyle, until the end. She was really quite shocked by the end of the film.

Even though, in many ways, it is a B horror flick, it has a quality to it that, in my mind, is very rare. The cinematography is beautiful, the story is told gently, and plays nicely with one's expectations. It also has a kind of eroticism that isn't often found, one that is perhaps more powerful because of its innocence. I also like the way they are costantly giving the Inspector ways to escape his fate but, each time, his faith or his resolve forces him toward it.

Sorry for digressing from the thread theme...

Gently Johnny - Paul Giovanni

I put my hand on her knee
And she says, do you want to see?
I put my hand on her breast
And she says, do you want a kiss?
Gently, gently...
Gently Johnny...
Gently Johnny, my jingaloo...

I put my hand on her thigh
And she says, do you want to try?
I put my hand on her belly
And she says, do you want to fill me?
Gently, gently...
Gently Johnny...
Gently Johnny, my jingaloo...

Digress away. I do it all the time.

 

[Trent_Dutch]

'You'll simply never understand the true nature of sacrifice'

While we're on it then, why don't we continue the theme... with this, yet another song from Wicker Man. I watched the film in my (very) heady University years, and had forgotten almost all of the ditty's, until I read Fflow's post above. The following is a rather innuendo-laden piece, about a 'Tinker' and, well, and a Maiden (its all there in the Title and the first line if you don't believe me).

A Tinker was a travelling craftsman, who would buy/sell old items, repair them for a fee, and generally keep the domestic side of British life running smoothly. I distinctly remember a History teacher telling us that Tinkers repaired metal household utensils, like the Kettle in the piece, primarily because many communites would not have had a smithy, or anyway of repairing metal items (remember 'Theres a hole in my bucket'... he has to fix the whole with straw).
In Scotland & Ireland & England Tinkers where gypsies, similar to some extent to the Romany Gypsy tradition (though there wagons weren't as pretty).

The piece given here reminds me mostly of the great British tradition of Bawdy comedy (I'm thinking of something akin to the 'Carry On....' and the 'Confessions of.....' feature films series of the 50's/60's/70's.... though the Canterbury Tales are also quite similar). Its just so blatant.... and yet not. But then those last two lines take any indecision away....

The Maiden and the Tinker.

A maiden did this tinker meet and to him boldly say
Oh sure my kettle hath much need, if you will pass my way.
She took the tinker by the hand and led him to her door.
Says she, my kettle I will show and you can clout it sure.
For patching and plugging is his delight
He hammers away both by day and by night.
Fair maid says he, your kettle's cracked,
The cause is plainly told.
There hath so many nails been drove,
That mine own could not take hold.

 

[Angeline]

A timeless lyric

cemented in a particular time, but never out of fashoin, lol. I just listened to Judy Collins sing it.

The Times They are A Changin

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.

 

[Fflow]

The Divine Comedy - Casanova

Here are words to a song from The Divine Comedy album, Casanova. It is the only album of theirs that I own, and don't know two much about the band. This song, however, is a real standout both lyrically, and as a song:

Songs Of Love

Pale, pubescent beasts
Roam through the streets
And coffee-shops
Their prey gather in herds
Of stiff knee-length skirts
And white ankle-socks
But while they search for a mate
My type hibernate
In bedrooms above
Composing their songs of love

Young, uniform minds
In uniform lines
And uniform ties
Run 'round
With trousers on fire
And signs of desire
They cannot disguise
While I try to find words
As light as the birds
That circle above
To put in my songs of love

Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice
Fortune depends on the tone of your voice
So sing while you have time
Let the sun shine down from above
And fill you with songs of love

Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice
Fortune depends on the tone of your voice
So let's sing while we still can
While the sun hangs high up above
Wonderful songs of love
Beautiful songs of love

 

[Angeline]

This Must Be The Place
Talking Heads

Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb - burn with a weak heart
(So I) guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It's ok I know nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong

Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you're standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up and say goodnight, say goodnight

Home is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home - -she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place
I can't tell one from another
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time before we were born
If someone asks, this is where I'll be, where I'll be

Hi yo we drift in and out
Hi yo sing into my mouth
Out of all those kinds of people
You got a face with a view
I'm just an animal looking for a home
Share the same space for a minute or two
And you love me till my heart stops
Love me till I'm dead
Eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head Ah ooh

 

[Angeline]

Does anyone else think David Byrne is a pretty good poet?

Mommy, Daddy, You and I
Talking Heads

All the way home from Baltimore
We couldn't find a seat
Conductor says he's sorry for
The blisters on our feet
Comes a-riding in a bus
The high and the low
Mommy, daddy, you and I
Going on a trip
And we're not going home
Mommy, daddy, you and I

Driving, keep driving
Driving, driving all night
Sleeping on my daddy's shoulder
Drinking from a paper cup
And I'm wearing my grandfather's clothes
And they say that up North it gets cold

Crawling out of bed one night
Walking in my sleep
We're not the only family
To take this little trip
Driving all the way up
It's 30 below
Mommy, daddy, you and I
Even little kids
Getting ready to go
Mommy, daddy,you and I

Chilly, Chilly-Willy
It's colder the further we go
Some are born to take advantage
But saying it don't make it so
So hold me and don't let me go
'Cause the sidewalks are covered with snow

He's speaking English now
And he's smoothing out his clothes
He's Mr. Button Down
He's leaving home

Making changes day by day
And we still ain't got no plan
How we gonna make our way
In this foreign land?

Well we'll keep driving, keep driving
Driving with all of our might
Changing, still changing
Changing the water of life
Keep that little man a shining
See how the tail can wag the dog

And we're all riding in this old bus
And the driver is singing to us
And we're wearing out grandfather's clothes
'Cause we heard that up North it gets cold

 

[Byron In Exile]

Jethro Tull: Wond'ring Again


There's the stillness of death
On a deathly unliving sea
And the motor car magical world
Long since ceased to be
When the Eve-bitten apple
Returned to destroy the tree
Incestuous ancestry's
Charabanc ride
Spawning new millions
Throws the world on its side
Supporting their far-flung illusion
The national curse
And those with no sandwiches
Please get off the bus

The excrement bubbles
The century's slime decays
And the brainwashing government lackeys
Would have us say
It's under control
And we'll soon be on our way
To a grand year for babies
And quiz panel games
Of the hot hungry millions
You'll be sure to remain
The natural resources are dwindling
And no one grows old
And those with no homes to go to
Please dig yourselves holes

We wandered through quiet lands
Felt the first breath of snow
Searched for the last pigeon
Slate grey I've been told
Stumbled on a daffodil
Which she crushed
In the rush
Heard it sigh
And left it to die

At once felt remorse and were touched
By the loss of our own
Held its poor broken head in her hands
Dropped soft tears in the snow

And it's only the taking
That makes you what you are

Wond'ring aloud
Will a son one day be born
To share in our infancy
In the child's path we've worn
In the aging seclusion
Of this earth
That our birth
Did surprise
We'll open his eyes

 

[Trent_Dutch]

The following is 'viewfinder', from Boombip and Dose-one, taken from the album '(circle)'. Anyone familiar with High-art, savant garde Hip-hop will probably know Dose-one as the poet/lyricist from Anticon. I, myself, am a large fan of some selected Hip-hop (note: Hip-hop, not rap)... people such as KRS-one and Del tha funky Homosapien (who lean more towards the rap side, but consider themselves Edutainment), Cloudead (another outing from Dose-one)... as well as some others, who really bridge the gap between poetry and music, such as the (quite frankly) amazing Saul Williams (anyone who hasn't heard Amethyst Rockstar should buy a copy, now.... and the book 'She'. I've kept a copy, much dog eared and bent, with me for the last 18 months now)....

I'm going to stop waffling now, and just put up the words.... but I'll probably be back somewhere to expound the virtues of this much maligned art form, that I feel, provides the closest synthesis of poetry and music that exists...

"view finder"

I am learning
to sit on the back steps
forever
and never
look at the same
piece of infront of me
more than once
it's a slide perspective projector
if you will
and where's that get me
thats right
back in bed
when I was six
and everything
was carpets and the toys
i threw upon them
but I made myself
an adults life and found my
fathers forehead wrinkles
to be just...
where did his childhood go
and then i appreciate
more of what
i choose to make the disatnt ones
so yeah
then that will be the first slide...

 

[Angeline]

Emily
Laura Nyro

Emily and her love to be,
carved in a heart on a berry tree.
But it's only a little farewell love spell,
time to design a woman.
Touch me, oh wake me,
Emily you ornament the earth for me.

Emily, you're the natural snow,
the unstudied sea, you're a cameo.
And I swear you were born a weavers lover,
born for the loom's desire.
Move me, oh sway me.
Emily, you ornament, the earth for me.

Emmie, your Momma’s been calling you.
Who stole Mama’s heart and cuddled in her garden?
Darling Emmie,
You were my friend and I loved you,
Emily, Emily, Emily, Emily.

 

[Angeline]

Buy and Sell
Laura Nyro

Cocaine and quiet beers, sweet candy and caramel.
Pass the time and dry the tears on a street called buy and sell.

Life turns like the endless sea. Death tolls like a vesper bell.
Children laugh and lovers dream on a street called buy and sell.

Ladies dress calico style, beware your heart when they smile.
And the men walk shamelessly, aimlessly by.
Cinders in the daylight, junkyards in the sky, buy and sell.
Sell my goods to buy my roof, my bed, my bed.

Two pennies will buy a rose. Three pennies and who can tell
on a street that comes and goes by the name of buy and sell?
Buy and sell, sell my goods to buy my roof, my bed.

 

[Angeline]

YOU GOT THE SILVER
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)

Hey babe, what's in your eyes?
I saw them flashing like airplane lights
You fill my cup, babe, that's for sure
I must come back for a little more

You got my heart you got my soul
You got the silver you got the gold
You got the diamonds from the mine
Well that's all right, it'll buy some time

Tell me, honey, what will I do
When I'm hungry and thirsty too
Feeling foolish, and that's for sure
Just waiting here at your kitchen door?

Hey baby, what's in your eyes?
Is that the diamonds from the mine?
What's that laughing in your smile?
I don't care, no, I don't care

Oh babe, you got my soul
You got the silver, you got the gold
It's just your love, just leave me blind
I don't care, no, that's no big surprise

 

[Fflow]

F-Hole

Here's a song by Squeeze. They're unsung songwriting heros to me and, although this may not be the best read, the song itself is stunning....

I wrote her name on a bar mat
She had a peculiar bonnet,
But a youngish damsel figure
With her tongue tied to a trigger,
She seemed a total killer
Her face all filled with filler,
Her face a painting palette
I stomached all her habits,
Sipped her snow balls poshly like a judge
But left her lipstick traces on her mug.
We watched each other closely
She looks like Bela Lugosi,
She asked me for a ride home
I felt around for my comb,
And in the bar room mirror
I combed right through her figure,
She wiggled through the car park
Into the pit of my heart,
Sat herself beside me in my van
A ring on every finger of her hand.

She lived down by the river
A flat the council give her,
Wallpaper very scenic
Her outlook very beatnik,
We watched the close and weather
Then through the door he entered,
Short sleeves and arms of iron
And me with just my tie on,
She said the lodger's used to this by now
I'd handled all the bull but not the cow.

Behind her velvet sofa
I found myself back sober,
She kept an old acoustic
She never ever used it,
A gift for me with a capo
A six string with an f-hole,
We made the strangest couple
A Laurel and Hardy double,
I learnt to play her favourite country songs
With one or two chords always going wrong

 

[Fflow]

graham parker

Graham Parker has been a consistantly good songwriter, with some inconsistant albums. A real Gem, Struck By Lightning, was the first of several more toned down, folk style albums that focused on his writing and voice.

There are several great songs on it, including Strong Winds, but this one has always been special to me:

It Shook Me

And it shook me, it shook me up, it shook me up, yeah


I remember the way you looked when we first met
There are some things in this world you can't forget
You were standing underneath the light I lost my heart, It felt all right
And it shook me, and I'm still shaking now.

I remember rainy nights I thought I'd drown
Was it London New York Paris or Amsterdam
I forget the details, I must admit
But you were there through all of it
And it shook me, and I'm still shaking now.

Will you hold on and hope our grip don't fail
Sometimes lovers hammer in their own coffin nails
I just read how universes start, continually they blow apart
And it shook me and I'm still shaking now.

Some believe in a heaven up above
With a God that forgives all with his great love
Well I FORgive you if you forGIVE me, hey!
Who needs the third party anyway
And it shook me and I'm still shaking now.

 

[tungtied2u]

Graham Parker has been a consistantly good songwriter, with some inconsistant albums. A real Gem, Struck By Lightning, was the first of several more toned down, folk style albums that focused on his writing and voice.

There are several great songs on it, including Strong Winds, but this one has always been special to me:

It Shook Me

I heartily agree with you. I saw Graham Parker and the Rumour perform in a bar called the Keystone(I think) in San Francisco years ago, and solo 20 odd years later in North Carolina. He is one of my favorite performers, and the show in Frisco remains my favorite live performance of all time.

This song is from 12 Haunted Episodes, an unusually upbeat album for him.

Force of Nature

She's got everything she needs and it isn't you
A cosmetic arsenal a bucket of glue
Signs on her back that say keep on the grass
Powerful liquor in a hip flask
Coins from the commonwealth doubloons from the sea
A knife in her boot heel a bonsai tree
Ice cream in her pocket diamonds from her fence
It all works like clockwork it all makes sense

(Chorus)
To a force of nature, force of nature, force of nature
That's what she is

With her clouded leopard on a leash in the shed
A vicious black rodent she calls fred
She keeps her diary under the bed
But there's nothin' in it cos it's all in her head

Walkin' round london with foreign banknotes
Throwin' silver nunchucks at cab drivers throats
Being invisible being obscene
Being the person you wish you'd been

Chorus repeat

But inside her heart there's a kid locked away in a room
Who throws a grenade at your feet that explodes with such force
That it bursts your balloon like a force of nature

But inside her heart there's this kid locked away in a room
Who peeks through the door every now and again
And says hey i'm coming out soon

Her raincoat jingles your mercury soars
Every last move defies gravity's laws
Her computer's connected directly to the stars
Keeps her emotions in mason jars
Stored in the attic in the roof near the sky
Up in the rafters where the bats fly
Being impossible being on a roll
Being like something you can't control

Chorus repeat

 

[tungtied2u]

Here's a song by Squeeze. They're unsung songwriting heros to me and, although this may not be the best read, the song itself is stunning....

Ok- I confess to being a Squeeze fan too...lived in England for 7 years, and they were always on the telly..

Take Me I'm Yours

(difford/tilbrook)

I've come across the desert
To greet you with a smile
My camel looks so tired
It's hardly worth my while
To tell you of my travels
Across the golden east
I see your preparations
Invite me first to feast
Take me i'm yours
Because dreams are made of this
Forever there'll be
A heaven in your kiss

Amusing belly dancers
Distract me from my wine
Across tibetan mountains
Are memories of mine
I've stood some ghostly moments
With natives in the hills
Recorded here on paper
My chills and thrills and spills

It's really been some welcome
You never seem to change
A grape to tempt your leisure
Romantic gestures strange
My eagle flies tomorrow
It's a game i treasure dear
To seek the helpless future
My love at last i'm here

 

[Guest]

If I had the chance to meet Jewel, I would probably faint. I feel she's my twin, and everything she writes, I seem to relate. What a life she's lived!! I wish I could give her a great big hug. She's come so far in life, and someday, well, I can only hope...

Absence Of Fear by Jewel
(one of my favorites)

Inside my skin there is this space
It twists and turns
It bleeds and aches
Inside my heart there's an empty room
It's waiting for lightning
It's waiting for you
And I am wanting
And I am needing you here
Inside the absence of fear

Muscle and sinew
Velvet and stone
This vessel is haunted
It creaks and moans
My bones call to you
In their separate skin
I make myself translucent
To let you in, for I am wanting
And I am needing you here
Inside the absence of fear

There is this hunger
This restlessness inside of me
And it knows that you're no stranger
You're my gravity

My hands will adore you through all darkness aim
They will lay you out in moonlight
And reinvent your name
For I am wanting you
And I am needing you here
I need you near
Inside the absence of fear

 

[Angeline]

Neil Young

is a truely beautiful soul. He's recovering from surgery for a brain anuerysm. Get well Neil.

On the Way Home
Neil Young

When the dream came
I held my breath
with my eyes closed
I went insane,
Like a smoke ring day
When the wind blows
Now I won't be back
till later on
If I do come back at all
But you know me,
and I miss you now.

In a strange game
I saw myself as you knew me
When the change came,
And you had a
Chance to see through me
Though the other side
is just the same
You can tell
my dream is real
Because I love you,
can you see me now.

Though we rush ahead
to save our time
We are only what we feel
And I love you,
can you feel it now.

 

[Angeline]

Sugar Mountain
Neil Young

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you're thinking that
you're leaving there too soon,
You're leaving there too soon.

It's so noisy at the fair
But all your friends are there
And the candy floss you had
And your mother and your dad.

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you're thinking that
you're leaving there too soon,
You're leaving there too soon.

There's a girl just down the aisle,
Oh, to turn and see her smile.
You can hear the words she wrote
As you read the hidden note.

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you're thinking that
you're leaving there too soon,
You're leaving there too soon.

Now you're underneath the stairs
And you're givin' back some glares
To the people who you met
And it's your first cigarette.

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you're thinking that
you're leaving there too soon,
You're leaving there too soon.

Now you say you're leavin' home
'Cause you want to be alone.
Ain't it funny how you feel
When you're findin' out it's real?

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you're thinking that
you're leaving there too soon,
You're leaving there too soon.

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain
with the barkers and the colored balloons,
You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you're thinking that
you're leaving there too soon,
You're leaving there too soon.

 

[Angeline]

THAT SONG ABOUT THE MIDWAY
Joni Mitchell (but I like Bonnie Raitt's cover of it best)

I met you on a midway at a fair last year
And you stood out like a ruby in a black man's ear
You were playing on the horses, you were playing on the guitar strings
You were playing like a devil wearing wings, wearing wings
You looked so grand wearing wings
Do you tape them to your shoulders just to sing
Can you fly
I heard you can! Can you fly
Like an eagle doin' your hunting from the sky

I followed with the sideshows to another town
And I found you in a trailer on the camping grounds
You were betting on some lover, you were shaking up the dice
And I thought I saw you cheating once or twice, once or twice

I heard your bid once or twice
Were you wondering was the gamble worth the price
Pack it in
I heard you did! Pack it in
Was it hard to fold a hand you knew could win

So lately you've been hiding - it was somewhere in the news
And I'm still at these races with my ticket stubs and my blues
And a voice calls out the numbers, and it sometimes mentions mine
And I feel like I've been working overtime, overtime

I've lost my fire overtime
Always playin' one more hand for one more dime
Slowin' down I'm gettin' tired!
Slowin' down
And I envy you the valley that you've found
'Cause I'm midway down the midway
Slowin' down, down, down, down

 

[Fflow]

An esoteric gem

Peter Blegvad has had, simultaniously, a brilliant and spotty career. He got his start in music as part of Slapp Happy, a farsical non-band, along with cohorts Anthony Moore and Dagmar Krause. The three recorded with Fauste, then Henry Cow, as their backing bands and, later, joined the latter. Moore quickly quit, and Blegvad was kicked out for being "flippant." (He claimed that the Henry Cow personell were "besmirched with the taint of zealotry.") Anyway, he went on to create a number of solo albums, each a wee gem of one order or another. From their 2nd album, here's a rather eclectic one:

War
by Slapp Happy
Lyrics by Peter Blegvad - Music by Anthone Moore

Tell of the birth
Tell how war appeared on earth

Thunder and herbs
conjugated sacred verbs
musicians with gongs
fertilized an egg with song
Asleep in the sphere
her fetus was a knot of fear
she butted with her horn
split an egg and war was born
A miracle of hate
she banged her spoon against her plate

Upon this spoon her motto
wonderfully designed:
"violence completes the partial mind"

Stacking the bones
on the empty aerodrome
tinted turtle green
she haunts the slender submarine
she shakes her gory locks
over the deserted docks

Come follow me
out of dark obsurity
Follow my torch
pilgrims at the double march
through meadows and seas
abattoirs and libraries
The pilgrims increase
boasting they are led by peace
They gut huts with gusto
pillage villages with verve
War does what she has to
people get what they deserve

 

[Angeline]

I Can't Wait to Get Off Work
(And See My Baby on Montgomery Avenue)
Tom Waits

Well I don't mind working
cause I used to be jerkin off
most of my time in the bars
I been a cabbie and a stock clerk
and a soda fountain jock jerk
and a manic mechanic on cars
It's nice work if you can get it
now who the hell said it
I got money to spend on my gal
but the work never stops
and I'll be busting my chops
working for Joe and Sal.

And I can't wait to get off work
and see my baby
she said she'd leave the porch light
on for me
I'm disheveled I'm disdainful
and I'm distracted and it's painful
but this job sweeping up here is
is gainfully employing me tonight

Tom do this Tom do that
Tom, don't do that
count the cash, clean the oven
dump the trash oh your lovin
is a rare and a copasetic gift
and I'm a moonlight watchmanic
it's hard to be romantic
(sweeping up over by the
cigarette machine
sweeping up over by the cigarette machine...)

I can't wait to get off work
and see my baby
she'll be waiting up with a magazine for me
clean the bathrooms, clean um good
oh your lovin I wish you would
come down here and sweepameoffmyfeet
this broom'll have to be my baby
if I hurry, I just might
get off before the dawns early light.

 

[cjh]

gift x-change - calexico

calexico are my favorite psilosybin alternative country mariachi band. there's no real way to describe them. they are just who they are.

here are the lyrics to gift x-change. the song can be downloaded legally from their web site.
______________________

You say you're leaving - going back home
where's your family. where do you come from
something's missing in your life. you've felt it all along
retrace your steps, balance and check where it all went wrong
the spirit is broken. the path is overrun
you can't move forward and nothing gets done
i hope you find some inner peace along the way
whatever it takes i pray you'll make it home on christmas day
in case you don't find what you need when you finally arrive
and your heart is snowed in there's no warmth or light
take this candle with you and this book of matches as well
as you're climbing the walls no answers at all
except the gift you give yourself
i trust you will find some inner peace through times that are rough
what would it take to hear you say the gift you give is love
the gift you live is enough