1. |
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My father's heart is like a rose
that shivers open and then goes
back into hiding for a cloudy year
and all around we live without the sun.
Now he is far away and I
watch for a message from the sky
I know he'll call to me by and by.
When the air is hyperclear with the sound of planes
all of us disturbing all of us, what is pain?
The mind asks questions like gaslight in the city
the answer is the sun is going down.
My father's heart is like a rose
that shivers open and then goes
back into hiding for a cloudy year
and all around we live without the sun.
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2. |
The Hawk
03:02
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It's dull to be in love with a man
who doesn't love you.
As you break the ones below you
you are broken by the one
who is above you.
In a way the hearts you're crushing
as you rush to your destruction
are your own.
How can you see the upturned faces
that are staring at you?
You feel so alone.
Slowly wheels the hawk.
The mouses blood is chilled.
The shepherd guards his flock.
The wolf waits in the wood.
I don't blame you for making a break
after all if she can't even water
the plants on the fire
escape before the leaves that have grown dry and brown
catch a cigarette ash and take the whole place down,
and the water that ought to have saved
the regal geranium is spent
putting out the fire it expired in,
what a waste, what a sin.
Slowly wheels the hawk.
The mouses blood is chilled.
The shepherd guards his flock.
The wolf waits in the wood.
In my salad days, when judgement was green
I thought only black-hearted people could be mean
but red blood is inside us
and white lies cannot hide this.
Slowly wheels the hawk.
The mouses blood is cold.
The shepherd guards his flock.
The wolf is in the fold.
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3. |
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Once or twice in my life I have seen something so pure, and so bright
these silver seeds in a black sky are the starts I travel by
It's a long long way back to the heart,
It's a long long way back to the heart,
we are living in pieces and parts
and It's a long long way back to the heart.
I am only a traveller here, I am a dream that the spirit is having
I sojourn in this lonely form only for so long
It's a long long way back to the heart,
It's a long long way back to the heart,
we are living in pieces and parts
and It's a long long way back to the heart.
The baby boy I have inside has already grown old and died
and I've been riding on this steed for seven thousand years, it seems
It's a long long way back to the heart,
It's a long long way back to the heart,
we are living in pieces and parts
and It's a long long way back to the heart.
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4. |
Goin' To The Graveyard
01:14
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Going to the graveyard in the morning, in the morning
Going to the graveyard in the morning.
Gonna see the light in the graveyard in the morning,
Going to the graveyard to see the light.
Going to the graveyard high noon, high noon,
Going to the graveyard high noon.
Gonna pack a picnic, pack a picnic, pack a picnic,
Gonna pack a picnic and a cork screw.
Going to the graveyard in the evening in the evening
Going to the graveyard in the light of the moon
Gonna die soon, die soon, die soon,
Gonna die soon, die soon, die soon.
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5. |
Lonely Calling
03:31
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I will undo the lonely hours that you have learned
and I will burn away the weeds that choke.
I need to hear the flower of the seed
that's buried in your throat:
I have to have that perfect note.
I can hear the lonely calling of the holy
when I am with you.
I can hear the lonely calling of the holy.
The cavernous inside of yours and mine connect
behind a blind I cannot lift.
The dart lies so deep it pulls me even in my sleep.
I can hear the lonely calling of the holy
when I am with you.
I can hear the lonely calling of the holy.
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6. |
Fall Down In Noise
02:28
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Fall down in noise
crisis of white skies
torn from the warm earth she rises
and you cannot catch her
you know that you oughta
but you are out sharking
in music water, in music water.
And you try to find some beauty in your head
but the thorny asker is there instead
with its blacked out stare
with its blacked out glare,
with its stare, the thorny asker is there
And it tells you that love is a game that's played with knives.
And it tells you you cannot lift this heavy life.
It's got armies of white words that follow along,
but its terrified of the sound of the song, of the song.
So fall down in noise.
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7. |
Wyoming
02:22
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I was looking for a sweater in a thrift store in Wyoming
the mornings are so cold here, and they're only getting colder
when a song came on the radio,
oh my mind began to blow back home.
The guitar part was so pretty I forgot that I had nobody to love.
The guitar part was so pretty, I could feel you standing next to me.
And when I came down I was standing in the aisle.
And when I came down, my hand was on an old grey flannel.
And when I came down, I landed by the candle like a moth with a burning wing.
Well the pavement's painted yellow with aspen leaves
and the wind's howling down the chimney.
The wind don't stop for nothing on this plain.
You learn to like this wind or you blow away.
Full moon tonight, hanging in the trees.
And I can't believe one body can hold this many melodies.
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8. |
New York City
01:58
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New York City
please don't eat me
you don't want to
I'm not tasty
or interested
in being digested
you're a fucking slob,
New York City.
You eat punks each day for lunch and cokeheads from LA for lunch
and businessmen for dinner but you've got your eyes on me for tea.
I know I make it hard on you, I'd be so good in fondu
I think I felt a drop of drool fall on my head today.
CHOR
Since you're too big to speak to me
you sent your black emissary he looked at me officiously and said:
caw, caw, caw, caw, caw, caw caw,
caw, caw, caw, caw, caw, caw caw.
The shit you told that crow to say
rang in my ears all night, all day,
I couldn't sleep I wouldn't pray
so I went down to old Broadway
arrange my face convincingly so you might feel some pity, I said:
please.
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9. |
The Sounds Of Birds
02:21
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10. |
Dido's Lament
01:40
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The hammer stopped hitting rocks the day the ship pulled in the dock
the ringing that the raising of the mighty city made was laid away
on the day that the queen of the land walked away,
hand in hand with the man who had landed.
Till one day, as you know, for it's how the story goes
he went away, he went away, in an underhanded way,
yeah she said, "Stay,"but he went anyway
and as she watched his ship rolling out of the bay, she called
"Hay!"
Hay!
"Straw"
Straw!
"Sticks"
Sticks!
"Fire"
Fire!
And she built herself a pyre and she laid on it and burned,
yeah she burned, yeah she burned,
yeah she burned, yeah she burned,
lesson learned?
If you aspire to be something rather higher
than a queen on a pyre on fire
lock the docks, guard the sea, build your city
sit alone on your throne, let the hammer ring on stone.
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11. |
Plenty Of Land
06:32
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I don't know where these words came from
but I heard them beat out as loud as a drum
one night as I was walking home against the wind in Brooklyn.
There's plenty of land left
go to the country,
I will build a fire
if you pick up a hammer.
Isn't this a bit misty eyed?
said my mind, said my mind.
Isn't this a bit hazy, this desire to fly to some nebulous elsewhither?
said my mind.
Isn't this a bit lazy, this terra ex machina?
Isn't it a bit quick fix-ey, isn't it a bit sixties?
But like wave after wave crashes on the the sand
My phrase kept repeating again and again:
There's plenty of land left, go to the country,
I will build a fire if you pick up a hammer.
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12. |
English Gardens
01:58
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Had a dream of English gardens
row on row of barbed wire
was strung between them,
with machine gun fire.
All the soldiers were women
hacking our way through parts
men had written.
See the children by the sandbox, holding her hand?
They're about to break out into no-man's land
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-a-tat-tat, see them fall back into the sand.
In my dream I was a soldier too,
I had a gun in my hand.
I didn't know who to shoot,
it was everyone against everyone.
I didn't know where to stand, there were no battle lines:
Only gardens, only gardens, only gardens.
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