none of these are mine; more's the pity.
1.
Twenty miles left to the shore.
Hello, my old country, Hello.
Stars are just beginning to appear,
and I have never, in my life,
before been here.
And it's my heart, not me,
who cannot drive,
at which conclusion you arrived,
watching me sit here, bolt upright,
and cry for no good reason
at the Eastering sky,
and the tilt of this strange nation,
and the will to remain for the duration
(waving the flag,
feeling it drag).
Like a bump on a bump on a log, baby;
like I'm in a fistfight with the fog, baby;
step, ball-change, and a pirouette!
And I regret
how I said to you,
Honey, just open your heard,
when I've got trouble
even opening a honey jar.
And that, right there, is where we are.
I've been fessing, double-fast,
addressing questions nobody asked.
I'll get this joy off of my chest, at last,
and I will love you
till the noise has long since passed.
I did not mean to shout. Just drive.
Just get us out, dead of alive.
The road's too long to mention--
Lord, it's something to see!--
laid down by the
Good Intentions Paving Company,
all the way to the thing
we've been playing at, darling.
I can see that you're wearing
your staying-hat, darling.
For the time being, all is well.
Won't you love me a spell?
This is blindness beyond all conceiving,
while, behind us, the road is leaving
and leaving, and falling back
like a rope gone slack.
Well, I saw straightaway
that the lay was steep,
but I feel for you, honey,
easy as falling asleep.
And that, right there,
is the course I keep.
And no amount of talking
is going to soften the fall,
but, like after the rain,
step out of the overhang. That's all.
It had a nice ring to it,
when the old opry house rang,
so, with a solemn auld lang
syne, sealed, delivered,
I sang.
And there is hesitation,
and it always remains
(concerning you, me,
and the rest of the gang),
And in our quiet hour,
I feel I see everything,
and am in love
with the hook
upon which everyone hangs.
And I know you meant
to show the extent
to which you gave a goddang--
you ranged real hot and real cold,
but I'm sold.
I am at home on that range.
And I do hate to fold,
right here, at the top of me game,
when I've been trying
with my whole heart and soul
to stay right here, in the right land.
But it can make you feel over, and old
(Lord, you know it's a shame),
when I only want for you to pull over
and hold me,
till I can't remember my own name.
2.
best was the time we were driving along after not seeing
each other for some time.
you had asked to see me, you wanted to be driven somewhere.
your car had been stolen. no, it wasn't that: it was the
carburetor or you needed a tune-up. anyhow, we drove along
and stopped at a signal on los feliz, and your hair was
all combed out and you said, "i'm with paul now."
i laughed. i hadn't laughed that well in months, in years.
then i checked myself: was it a purposeful laugh to annoy
you? or was it relief?
so i checked inside and fount it hadn't been defensive:
it just felt good to clean everything up. so
we ran your errand and went someplace to eat, and i suggested
that the pre-meal drink be to paul who had no idea of what
was coming to him, and you said that he had no idea of
what you were getting away from, so we
drank to that. the we had another drink with no toast.
i always liked your hair combed out like that and you always
knew just where to put the ribbon.
meeting is more exciting than parting but parting is
important if you want to stay alive in a certain way.
never again will i see all of your beauty sleeping, wide-
legged, immune to me: we've all been cheated.
3.
Now the first kid in the crew
Is called imagination
The team without him stationed
First to work on the aspiration
But with him it's all about having patience
There's no exact science to his magic making
But imaginations still the worlds finest engineer
Who invents by merely paying no attention to his peers
Tends to veer from convention
And has a penchant for beers
Brewed from sunsets
He says he drink until his senses clear
He's Einstein brilliant
With skills to design buildings
No mind is equal so he spends his time with children on sight
He draws the blueprint that sets the plan in motion
So you know that he always takes his time to create designs
Imagination works without tools or drills
He's not trained and never went to school for skills
Still nothing starts till he hits the site
He often brings the sketches to the foreman
In the middle of the night
Then he heads home til the next project starts
Leaving the boss to put together all the parts
Foremans a born leader with a strong eye for detail
To some it's surprising that the boss is a female
But more remarkable is how she starts to go
Once the plans are drawn
Assembling the squad and supplies so the job doesn't die on paper
Whether its a song
Soliloquy
Or a tall sky scraper
Her name is intellect but her friends call her mental
Just for short and for jokes and though
She boasts all the credentials
Most incredible of all of her traits is
That as small as a shape is
She's strong as an ape is
She even does most of the work
All on her own
Carrying bricks and stones
But its tricks don't check it
Sis applies physics if the load is heavy
And she always goes slow and steady until she knows its ready
See intellect is mathematics
Professional
And perpetually pragmatic
But skeptical
So she measures all the angles and
Checks the scales
She makes plans then makes plans for if the plans fail
She also oversees all the companies construction
And when the teams finished
There's just one more part
A specialist to make the creation a real piece of art
Now hearts not a crass pin
But all the skill in the world
Adds up to just a fraction of his soul and passion
He makes pieces long lasting
Like intellect hes small and humble
But if he wasn't involved
It would all crumble you see
Heart applies a polish that
Puts a special shine on the work intellect build and
Imagination designed
Plus he also adds a touch of the divine
To protect from the blind
And the elements all the time
Without him great pieces often go to waste
And he makes the less refined unique in every case
He'll work through all conditions
Even in snow and rain
Somehow pushing himself through the coldest days
Covered in cuts and scratches
With no complaints and Novocaine
Just a threshold for pain
It'll blow your brain working through the set backs and when it's done it's
Just on to the next task
4.
well if we don't intersect then, what do
we have? if i were to have never em
braced your soapy shoulder, would i have bent
and suffered? would i have, [just as much] if
i hadn't? if you had never exper
ienced my skilled fingers, would you be so
broken and old? would you be, [just as much]
if you hadn't? when the walls are dark, and
the pages of books seem much closer than
they really are, and i am falling a
sleep, when this tired day is ending, i
am grateful to have suffered in your arms.
that's just a fancy way of saying, ev'
'ry point on a line is a solution.
5.
it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such silence as i know, or such
great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;
if this should be, i say if this should be--
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands
6.
There is a rusty light on the pines tonight
Sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow
Down into the bones of the birches
And the spires of the churches
Jutting out from the shadows
The yoke, and the axe, and the old smokestacks and the bale and the barrow
And everything sloped like it was dragged from a rope
In the mouth of the south below
7.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
Twenty miles left to the shore.
Hello, my old country, Hello.
Stars are just beginning to appear,
and I have never, in my life,
before been here.
And it's my heart, not me,
who cannot drive,
at which conclusion you arrived,
watching me sit here, bolt upright,
and cry for no good reason
at the Eastering sky,
and the tilt of this strange nation,
and the will to remain for the duration
(waving the flag,
feeling it drag).
Like a bump on a bump on a log, baby;
like I'm in a fistfight with the fog, baby;
step, ball-change, and a pirouette!
And I regret
how I said to you,
Honey, just open your heard,
when I've got trouble
even opening a honey jar.
And that, right there, is where we are.
I've been fessing, double-fast,
addressing questions nobody asked.
I'll get this joy off of my chest, at last,
and I will love you
till the noise has long since passed.
I did not mean to shout. Just drive.
Just get us out, dead of alive.
The road's too long to mention--
Lord, it's something to see!--
laid down by the
Good Intentions Paving Company,
all the way to the thing
we've been playing at, darling.
I can see that you're wearing
your staying-hat, darling.
For the time being, all is well.
Won't you love me a spell?
This is blindness beyond all conceiving,
while, behind us, the road is leaving
and leaving, and falling back
like a rope gone slack.
Well, I saw straightaway
that the lay was steep,
but I feel for you, honey,
easy as falling asleep.
And that, right there,
is the course I keep.
And no amount of talking
is going to soften the fall,
but, like after the rain,
step out of the overhang. That's all.
It had a nice ring to it,
when the old opry house rang,
so, with a solemn auld lang
syne, sealed, delivered,
I sang.
And there is hesitation,
and it always remains
(concerning you, me,
and the rest of the gang),
And in our quiet hour,
I feel I see everything,
and am in love
with the hook
upon which everyone hangs.
And I know you meant
to show the extent
to which you gave a goddang--
you ranged real hot and real cold,
but I'm sold.
I am at home on that range.
And I do hate to fold,
right here, at the top of me game,
when I've been trying
with my whole heart and soul
to stay right here, in the right land.
But it can make you feel over, and old
(Lord, you know it's a shame),
when I only want for you to pull over
and hold me,
till I can't remember my own name.
2.
best was the time we were driving along after not seeing
each other for some time.
you had asked to see me, you wanted to be driven somewhere.
your car had been stolen. no, it wasn't that: it was the
carburetor or you needed a tune-up. anyhow, we drove along
and stopped at a signal on los feliz, and your hair was
all combed out and you said, "i'm with paul now."
i laughed. i hadn't laughed that well in months, in years.
then i checked myself: was it a purposeful laugh to annoy
you? or was it relief?
so i checked inside and fount it hadn't been defensive:
it just felt good to clean everything up. so
we ran your errand and went someplace to eat, and i suggested
that the pre-meal drink be to paul who had no idea of what
was coming to him, and you said that he had no idea of
what you were getting away from, so we
drank to that. the we had another drink with no toast.
i always liked your hair combed out like that and you always
knew just where to put the ribbon.
meeting is more exciting than parting but parting is
important if you want to stay alive in a certain way.
never again will i see all of your beauty sleeping, wide-
legged, immune to me: we've all been cheated.
3.
Now the first kid in the crew
Is called imagination
The team without him stationed
First to work on the aspiration
But with him it's all about having patience
There's no exact science to his magic making
But imaginations still the worlds finest engineer
Who invents by merely paying no attention to his peers
Tends to veer from convention
And has a penchant for beers
Brewed from sunsets
He says he drink until his senses clear
He's Einstein brilliant
With skills to design buildings
No mind is equal so he spends his time with children on sight
He draws the blueprint that sets the plan in motion
So you know that he always takes his time to create designs
Imagination works without tools or drills
He's not trained and never went to school for skills
Still nothing starts till he hits the site
He often brings the sketches to the foreman
In the middle of the night
Then he heads home til the next project starts
Leaving the boss to put together all the parts
Foremans a born leader with a strong eye for detail
To some it's surprising that the boss is a female
But more remarkable is how she starts to go
Once the plans are drawn
Assembling the squad and supplies so the job doesn't die on paper
Whether its a song
Soliloquy
Or a tall sky scraper
Her name is intellect but her friends call her mental
Just for short and for jokes and though
She boasts all the credentials
Most incredible of all of her traits is
That as small as a shape is
She's strong as an ape is
She even does most of the work
All on her own
Carrying bricks and stones
But its tricks don't check it
Sis applies physics if the load is heavy
And she always goes slow and steady until she knows its ready
See intellect is mathematics
Professional
And perpetually pragmatic
But skeptical
So she measures all the angles and
Checks the scales
She makes plans then makes plans for if the plans fail
She also oversees all the companies construction
And when the teams finished
There's just one more part
A specialist to make the creation a real piece of art
Now hearts not a crass pin
But all the skill in the world
Adds up to just a fraction of his soul and passion
He makes pieces long lasting
Like intellect hes small and humble
But if he wasn't involved
It would all crumble you see
Heart applies a polish that
Puts a special shine on the work intellect build and
Imagination designed
Plus he also adds a touch of the divine
To protect from the blind
And the elements all the time
Without him great pieces often go to waste
And he makes the less refined unique in every case
He'll work through all conditions
Even in snow and rain
Somehow pushing himself through the coldest days
Covered in cuts and scratches
With no complaints and Novocaine
Just a threshold for pain
It'll blow your brain working through the set backs and when it's done it's
Just on to the next task
4.
well if we don't intersect then, what do
we have? if i were to have never em
braced your soapy shoulder, would i have bent
and suffered? would i have, [just as much] if
i hadn't? if you had never exper
ienced my skilled fingers, would you be so
broken and old? would you be, [just as much]
if you hadn't? when the walls are dark, and
the pages of books seem much closer than
they really are, and i am falling a
sleep, when this tired day is ending, i
am grateful to have suffered in your arms.
that's just a fancy way of saying, ev'
'ry point on a line is a solution.
5.
it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such silence as i know, or such
great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;
if this should be, i say if this should be--
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands
6.
There is a rusty light on the pines tonight
Sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow
Down into the bones of the birches
And the spires of the churches
Jutting out from the shadows
The yoke, and the axe, and the old smokestacks and the bale and the barrow
And everything sloped like it was dragged from a rope
In the mouth of the south below
7.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands