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Član
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02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"The Lion's Share"

Can I be unhappy?
Look at what I see: a beast in furs and crowned in luxury.
He's a wealthy man in the poorest land, a self-appointed king,
and there's no complaining while he's reigning.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, I'm told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lion's share.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.

Can I be unhappy?
Listen and agree, no words can shame him or tame him.
The lambs are bare of fleece and cold; the lion has stolen that, I'm told.
There must be some creature mighty as you are.
The lambs go hungry (not fair), the biggest portion is the lion's share.
There must be some creature mighty as you are, as you are.

Razor claws in velvet paws, you dunce in your guarded home,
'til a stronger beast will call on you and pounce upon your throne.

Do we pay? Dearly, for the lion takes so greedily
and he knows that what he's taken, it is ours.
That's how the wealth's divided among the lambs and king of the beasts, it is so one-sided.
Until the lamb is king of the beasts we live so one-sided.
 
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Član
Učlanjen(a)
02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"The Painted Desert"

The Painted Desert can wait till summer.
We've played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When I'm sure the rains have ended, the blooms have gone,
everyone killed by the morning frost.
Is a cactus blooming there in every roadside stand
where the big deal is cowboy gear won in Japan?

The Painted Desert can wait till summer.
We've played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When I'm sure the rains have ended and the blooms have gone,
everyone killed by the morning frost.
Is a cactus blooming there upon the Northern rim
or in the ruins of the Hopi mesa dens?

You met a new friend in the Canyon, or so you wrote.
On a blanket in the cooling sand you and your friend agreed that
the stars were so many there they seemed to overlap.

The Painted Desert can wait till summer.
We've played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When I am sure the rain has ended, the blooms have gone,
everyone killed by the morning frost.
Was a cactus blooming there as you watched the Native boy?
In Flagstaff trailer court, you wrote the line:
"He kicked a tumbleweed and his mother called him home where the Arizona moon met the Arizona sun."

I wanted to be there by May at the latest time.
Isn't that the plan we had or have you changed your mind?
I haven't read a word from you since Phoenix or Tucson.
April is over will you tell me how long before I can be there?
 
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Član
Učlanjen(a)
02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"These Are Days"

These are the days.

These are days you'll remember.
Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this.
And as you feel it, you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky.
It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days you'll remember.
When May is rushing over you with desire to be part of the miracles you see in
Every hour.
You'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky.
It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days.

These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break.
These days you might feel a shaft of light make its way across your face.
And when you do you'll know how it was meant to be.
See the signs and know their meaning.
It's true, you'll know how it was meant to be.
Hear the signs and know they're speaking to you, to you.
 
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Član
Učlanjen(a)
02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"Time Turns"

I saw time turn so much there to unlearn,
you were envy you wouldn't say you tore heart strings
that sorry day dark light hid the tears one for each of the years
love has reasons reason never knows
time turns over love overflows I should have spoken sooner
on that sorry day your arms are open
and I wondered why
wondered why
five years passed to the day time heals some people say
when you hurt the ones I love you're also hurting me
and time turns over turning you from me I thought you'd never reach me
on that sorry day your arms were open wide and I wondered why
 
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Član
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02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"Tolerance"

The still and silence is torn with violence.
A loud breaking sound in the night is made.
Hear it grow, hear it fade.
The sound you're hearing, the sound you're fearing
is the hate that parades up and down our streets, coming within bounds and within reach.

Now, inside the place we hide away, we hear it near and hope it turns away.
Turn away...

There's something seething in the air we're breathing.
We learn slash and burn is the method to use.
Set a flame, burn it new.
We're overpowered.
We kneel, we cower, we cover our heads.
Feel the threat of blows that will come and the damage that will be done in its wake.

Now, inside this place we hide away, we hear it near although it's miles away.
We hear it near and hope it turns away.
Turn away...

This house divided, we live inside it.
Hate's dwelling place is behind our door in fitful nights.
Hear it walk the floor and hear it rave as it moans and drags along its ball and chain,
as it moves through this house it can't escape.

Now inside this place we hide away.
We hear it near and hope it turns away.
Turn away....
 
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Član
Učlanjen(a)
02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"Trouble Me"

Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and your worries.
Trouble me on the days when you feel spent.
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong?
Trouble me.

Speak to me, don't mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling;
there's no telling where it starts or how it ends.
Speak to me, why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me when your silence is my greatest fear?
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong?
Speak to me.

Let me have a look inside these eyes while I'm learning.
Please don't hide them just because of tears.
Let me send you off to sleep with a "There, there, now stop your turning and tossing."
Let me know where the hurt is and how to heal.

Spare me? Don't spare me anything troubling.
Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and your worries.
Speak to me and let our words build a shelter from the storm.
Lastly, let me know what I can mend.
There's more, honestly, than my sweet friend, you can see.
Trust is what I'm offering if you trouble me.
 
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Član
Učlanjen(a)
02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"Verdi Cries"

The man in 119 takes his tea alone.
Mornings we all rise to wireless Verdi cries.
I'm hearing opera through the door.
The souls of men and women, impassioned all.
Their voices climb and fall; battle trumpets call.
I fill the bath and climb inside, singing.

He will not touch their pastry
but every day they bring him more.
Gold from the breakfast tray, I steal them all away
and then go and eat them on the shore.

I draw a jackal-headed woman in the sand,
sing of a lover's fate sealed by jealous hate
then wash my hand in the sea.
With just three days more I'd have just about learned the entire score to Aida.

Holidays must end as you know.
All is memory taken home with me:
the opera, the stolen tea, the sand drawing, the verging sea, all years ago.
 
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Član
Učlanjen(a)
02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"What's The Matter Here?"

That young boy without a name anywhere I'd know his face.
In this city the kid's my favorite.
I've seen him. I see him every day.
Seen him run outside looking for a place to hide from his father,
the kid half naked and said to myself "O, what's the matter here?"
I'm tired of the excuses everybody uses, he's their kid I stay out of it,
but who gave you the right to do this?

We live on Morgan Street;
just ten feet between and his mother, I never see her,
but her screams and cussing, I hear them every day.
Threats like: "If you don't mind I will beat on your behind,"
"Slap you, slap you silly."
made me say, "O, what's the matter here?"
I'm tired of the excuses everybody uses, he's your kid, do as you see fit,
but get this through that I don't approve of what you did to you own flesh and blood.

"If you don't sit on this chair straight
I'll take this belt from around my waist and don't think that I won't use it!"

Answer me and take your time,
what could be the awful crime he could do at such young an age?
If I'm the only witness to your madness offer me some words to balance out what I see and what I hear.
Oh these cold and lowly things that you do I suppose you do because he belongs to you
and instead of love and the feel of warmth you've given him these cuts and sores don't heal with time or with age.

And I want to say "What's the Matter here?"
But I don't dare say.
 
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Član
Učlanjen(a)
02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"Who Knows Where The Time Goes?"

Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it's time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I have no thought of time

For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I do not count the time

For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

And I am not alone while my love is near me
I know it will be so until it's time to go
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again
I have no fear of time

For who knows how my love grows?
And who knows where the time goes?
 
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Član
Učlanjen(a)
02.05.2010
Poruka
1.043
"You Happy Puppet"

How did they teach you to be just a happy puppet dancing on a string?
How did you learn everything that comes along with slavish funnery?
Tell me something, if the world is so insane,
is it making you sane again to let another man tug at the thread that pulls up your nodding head?

How did they teach you to be just a happy puppet dancing on a string?
How do you manage to live inside this tiny stage you can't leave?
Tell me something, if the world is so insane,
is it making you sane again to let another man tug at the thread that pulls up your nodding head?

A dullard strung on the wire.
When the master's gone you hang there with your eyes and your limbs so lifeless.

How did they teach you to be just a happy puppet dancing on a string?
How do you manage to speak, your mouth a frozen grin?

A dullard strung on the wire.
When the master's gone you hang there with your eyes and your limbs so lifeless.

Tell me something, if the world is so insane,
is it making you sane again to let another man tug at the thread that pulls up your empty wooden head?

Your hollow head, your marble eyes, your wooden hands and your metal jaw pins
all wait in limbo for the man who knows how to move you this way.
 
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