(In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an' they gave me a lethal dose.
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm.")
Printable View
(In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an' they gave me a lethal dose.
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm.")
Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine.Quote:
Originally Posted by Shanna
Good luck with your own attempt to do so.
"I'll Not Contain You" - The Microphones
I'll not contain you,
I won't look for you in my room.
Through lengthy talks I'll not contain you.
Through climbing arms, I'll reach my loft.
Through rotting skin, I'll leave my coffin.
Through callous work, I will grow soft.
My eyes narrow towards a light -
A place where we hotly radiate.
Things aren't concrete there
And we fastly glide over the bay,
Over our days to get there.
And I'll not contain you.
"Rosemary" - The Grateful Dead
Boots were of leather
A breath of cologne
Her mirror was a window
She sat quite alone
All around her
the garden grew
scarlet and purple
and crimson and blue
She came and she went
and at last went away
The garden was sealed
when the flowers decayed
On the wall of the garden
a legend did say:
No one may come here
since no one may stay
"College" - Animal Collective
You don't have to go to college
Moon River - J Mercer
Moon River, wider than a mile,
I'm crossing you in style someday
Oh dream maker, you heart breaker!
Wherever you're going I'm going your way
Two drifters off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
We're after the same rainbow's end,
Waiting 'round the bend,
my huckleberry friend; Moon River and me.
A few songs from the CD's I bought today:
Tea Party ~ Temptation
Driven by restrained desire
I want what I need
Shaking as her sex takes hold
I've lost all control
Drowning in a sea of rage
I taste the embrace
Helpless as it steals my soul
I've lost all control
We exist in a world where the fear of illusion is real
And we cling to the past to deny and confuse the ideal
Once inside, we conceive and believe in a god we cant feel
Destined by a fate so cruel
And drugged to delight
I'm laughing as the lies unfold
I've lost all control
Temptation
It never lets me down
One foot in the ground
Temptation
You satisfy my soul
Temptation
I've lost all control
Tea Party ~ Psychopomp
You wanted this
So sad to see
The sweet decay
Of ecstasy
And you want it all
A frozen sun
Will guide you there
As shadows hide
The deep despair
I'll give you something more
And you'll fade away
One last kiss before
You fade away
So sleep tonight
In idle dreams
The pain will drown
Your silent screams
And you want it all
I'll give you something more
And you'll fade away
One last kiss before
You fade away
Lives you once adored
Will fade away
Lies you cant ignore
You soon repay
As you fade away
Counting Crows ~ Round Here
Step out the front door like a ghost
Into the fog where no one notices
The contrast of white on white
And in between the moon and you
The angels get a better view
Of the crumbling distance between wrong and right
I walk in the air between the rain
Through myself and back again
Where? I dont know
Maria says she's dying
Through the door I hear her crying
Why? I dont know
Round here we always stand up straight
Round here something radiates
Maria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her hand
She said she'd like to meet a boy who looks like Elvis
She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land
Just like she's walking on a wire in the circus
She parks her car outside of my house
Takes her clothes off
Says she's close to understanding Jesus
She knows she's more than just a little misunderstood
She has trouble acting normal when she's nervous
Round here we're carving out our names
Round here we all look the same
Round here we talk just like lions
But we sacrifice like lambs
Round here she's slipping through my hands
Sleeping children better run like the wind
Out of the lightning dream
Mama's little baby better get herself in
Out of the lightning
She says "It's only in my head"
She says "shhh I know its only in my head"
But the girl in the parking lot
Says: "Man, you should try to take a shot
Can't you see my walls are crumbling?"
Then she looks up at the building
And says she's thinking of jumping
She says she's tired of life:
She must be tired of something
Round here she's always on my mind
Round here I got lots of time
Round here we're never sent to bed early
Nobody makes us wait
Round here we stay up very very late
This song was in the movie American Gigolo. Richard Gere is singing
along with it while he packs his suitcase, but I don't think it's on
the soundtrack.
Smokey Robinson has been called the poet laureate of soul music. He
has written some 4000 songs and recorded hundreds.
The Love I Saw In You Was Just A Mirage
(Smokey Robinson)
There you were beautiful
The promise of love was written on your face
You led me on with untrue kisses
You held me captive in your false embrace
Quicker than I could bat an eye
Seems you were telling me goodbye
Just a minute ago your love was here
All of a sudden it seemed to disappear
Sweetness was only heartache's camouflage
The love I saw in you was just a mirage
We used to meet in romantic places
You gave the illusion that your love was real
Now all that's left are lipstick traces
From the kisses you only pretended to feel
And now our meetings you avoid
And so my world you have destroyed
Just a minute ago your love was here
All of a sudden it seemed to disappear
The way you wrecked my life was like sabotage
The love I saw in you was just a mirage
You only filled me with despair
By showing love that wasn't there
Just like the desert shows a thirsty man
A green oasis where there's only sand
You lured me into something I should have dodged
The love I saw in you was just a mirage
I don't know if this has already been mentioned, but The Velvet Underground's "The Gift" has great lyrics...
Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit.
It was now mid-August which meant that he had been separated from Marsha for more than two months.
Two months, and all he had to show were three dog-eared letters and two very expensive long-distance phone calls.
True, when school had ended and she'd returned to Wisconsin and he to Locust, Pennsylvania she had sworn to maintain a certain fidelity.
She would date occasionally, but merely as amusement.
She would remain faithful. But lately Waldo had begun to worry.
He had trouble sleeping at night and when he did, he had horrible dreams.
He lay awake at night, tossing and turning underneath his printed quilt protector, tears welling in his eyes,
As he pictured Marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor and the smooth soothings of some Neanderthal,
Finally submitting to the final caresses of sexual oblivion. It was more than the human mind could bear.
Visions of Marsha's faithlessness haunted him.
Daytime fantasies of sexual abandon permeated his thoughts.
And the thing was, they wouldn't understand who she really was.
He, Waldo, alone, understood this.
He had intuitively grasped every nook and cranny of her psyche.
He had made her smile, and she needed him, and he wasn't there. (Awww.)
The idea came to him on the Thursday before the Mummers Parade was scheduled to appear.
He had just finished mowing and edging the Edelsons lawn for a dollar-fifty
And had checked the mailbox to see if there was at least a word from Marsha.
There was nothing more than a circular form the Amalgamated Aluminum Company of America inquiring into his awning needs.
At least they cared enough to write.
It was a New York company. You could go anywhere in
the mails. Then it struck him: he didn't have enough
money to go to Wisconsin in the accepted fashion,
true, but why not mail himself? It was absurdly
simple. He would ship himself parcel post special
delivery. The next day Waldo went to the supermarket
to purchase the necessary equipment. He bought
masking tape, a staple gun and a medium sized
cardboard box, just right for a person of his build.
He judged that with a minimum of jostling he could
ride quite comfortably. A few airholes, some water, a
selection of midnight snacks, and it would probably be
as good as going tourist.
By Friday afternoon, Waldo was set. He was thoroughly
packed and the post office had agreed to pick him up
at three o'clock. He'd marked the package "FRAGILE"
and as he sat curled up inside, resting in the foam
rubber cushioning he'd thoughtfully included, he tried
to picture the look of awe and happiness on Marsha's
face as she opened the door, saw the package, tipped
the deliverer, and then opened it to see her Waldo
finally there in person. She would kiss him, and then
maybe they could see a movie. If he'd only thought of
this before. Suddenly rough hands gripped his package
and he felt himself borne up. He landed with a thud
in a truck and then he was off.
Marsha Bronson had just finished setting her hair. It
had been a very rough weekend. She had to remember
not to drink like that. Bill had been nice about it
though. After it was over he'd said that he still
respected her and, after all, it was certainly the way
of nature and even though no, he didn't love her, he
did feel an affection for her. And after all, they
were grown adults. Oh, what Bill could teach Waldo --
but that seemed many years ago. Sheila Klein, her
very, very best friend walked in through the porch
screen door into the kitchen. "Oh God, it's
absolutely maudlin outside."
"Ugh, I know what you mean, I feel all icky." Marsha
tightened the belt on her cotton robe with the silk
outer edge. Sheila ran her finger over some salt
grains on the kitchen table, licked her finger and
made a face.
"I'm supposed to be taking these salt pills, but," she
wrinkled her nose, "they make me feel like throwing
up."
Marsha started to pat herself under the chin, an
exercise she'd seen on television. "God, don't even
talk about that." She got up from the table and went
to the sink where she picked up a bottle of pink and
blue vitamins. "Want one? Supposed to be better than
steak." And attempted to touch her knees. "I don't
think I'll ever touch a daiquiri again." She gave up
and sat down, this time nearer the small table that
supported the telephone. "Maybe Bill'll call," she
said to Sheila's glance.
Sheila nibbled on a cuticle. "After last night, I
thought maybe you'd be through with him."
"I know what you mean. My God, he was like an
octopus. Hands all over the place." She gestured,
raising her arms upward in defense. "The thing is
after a while, you get tired of fighting with him, you
know, and after all he didn't really do anything
Friday and Saturday so I kind of owed it to him, you
know what I mean." She started to scratch. Sheila
was giggling with her hand over her mouth. "I'll tell
you, I felt the same way, and even after a while," she
bent forward in a whisper, "I wanted to," and now she
was laughing very loudly.
It was at this point that Mr. Jameson of the Clarence
Darrow Post Office rang the door bell of the large
stucco colored frame house. When Marsha Bronson
opened the door, he helped her carry the package in.
He had his yellow and his green slips of paper signed
and left with a fifteen-cent tip that Marsha had
gotten out of her mothers small beige pocket book in
the den. "What do you think it is?" Sheila asked.
Marsha stood with her arms folded behind her back. S
he stared at the brown cardboard carton that sat in
the middle of the living room. "I don't know."
Inside the package Waldo quivered with excitement as
he listened to the muffled voices. Sheila ran her
fingernail over the masking tape that ran down the
center of the carton. "Why don't you look at the
return address and see who it is from?" Waldo felt
his heart beating. He could feel the vibrating
footsteps. It would be soon.
Marsha walked around the carton and read the
ink-scratched label. "Ugh, God, it's from Waldo!"
"That schmuck," said Sheila. Waldo trembled with
expectation. "Well, you might as well open it," said
Sheila. Both of them tried to lift the stapled flap.
"Ahh, ****," said Marsha groaning. "He must have
nailed it shut." They tugged at the flap again. "My
God, you need a power drill to get this thing opened."
They pulled again. "You can't get a grip!" They
both stood still, breathing heavily.
"Why don't you get the scissors," said Sheila. Marsha
ran into the kitchen, but all she could find was a
little sewing scissor. Then she remembered that her
father kept a collection of tools in the basement.
She ran downstairs and when she came back, she had a
large sheet-metal cutter in her hand.
"This is the best I could find." She was very out of
breath. "Here, you do it. I'm gonna die." She sank
into a large fluffy couch and exhaled noisily.
Sheila tried to make a slit between the masking tape
and the end of the cardboard, but the blade was too
big and there wasn't enough room. "Godamn this
thing!" she said feeling very exasperated. Then,
smiling, "I got an idea."
"What?" said Marsha.
"Just watch," said Sheila touching her finger to her
head.
Inside the package, Waldo was so transfixed with
excitement that he could barely breathe. His skin
felt prickly from the heat and he could feel his heart
beating in his throat. It would be soon. Sheila
stood quite upright and walked around to the other
side of the package. Then she sank down to her knees,
grasped the cutter by both handles, took a deep breath
and plunged the long blade through the middle of the
package, through the middle of the masking tape,
through the cardboard, through the cushioning and
(thud) right through the center of Waldo Jeffers head,
which split slightly and caused little rhythmic arcs
of red to pulsate gently in the morning sun.
I'm sure this one has been mentioned before, but it is one of my favorites:
A Case of You - Joni Mitchell
Just before our love got lost you said
"I am as constant as a northern star"
And I said, "Constant in the darkness
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar"
On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada
And I sketched your face on it twice
Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I'd still be on my feet
Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time that you told me, you said
"Love is touching souls"
Surely you touched mine
"Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
And you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I'd still be on my feet
I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said
"Go to him, stay with him if you can
Oh but be prepared to bleed"
Oh but you are in my blood you're my holy wine
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
Still I'd be on my feet
I'd still be on my feet
32 Flavors - Ani Difranco (my life's theme song)
squint your eyes and look closer
i'm not between you and your ambition
i am a poster girl with no poster
i am thirty-two flavors and then some
and i'm beyond your peripheral vision
so you might want to turn your head
cause someday you're going to get hungry
and eat most of the words you just said
both my parents taught me about good will
and i have done well by their names
just the kindness i've lavished on strangers
is more than i can explain
still there's many who've turned out their porch lights
just so i would think they were not home
and hid in the dark of their windows
till i'd passed and left them alone
and god help you if you are an ugly girl
course too pretty is also your doom
cause everyone harbors a secret hatred
for the prettiest girl in the room
and god help you if you are a phoenix
and you dare to rise up from the ash
a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy
while you are just flying past
i'm not trying to give my life meaning
by demeaning you
and i would like to state for the record
i did everything that i could do
i'm not saying that i'm a saint
i just don't want to live that way
no, i will never be a saint
but i will always say
squint your eyes and look closer
i'm not between you and your ambition
i am a poster girl with no poster
i am thirty-two flavors and then some
and i'm beyond your peripheral vision
so you might want to turn your head
cause someday you might find you're starving
and eating all of the words you said
Here's one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite artists - Richard Thompson is one of the world's most underrated guitarists and also a great songwriter with a unique (and extremely English) voice. For those of you in foreign climes, "Put it there" refers to offering a handshake (not sure if that translates into Americanglish). This is a beautifully bittersweet song - you really need to hear the venom in the delivery of these lyrics to fully appreciate it - I'd hate to be the inspiration for this!
Quote:
PUT IT THERE PAL - Richard Thompson
Old friend, it's been so long, and it's been so real
And if I helped you once it was no big deal
Too bad I can't be there when they call your name
They're going to write you down in the hall of fame
You really got what you wanted, I'm thrilled as pie
It really couldn't happen to a nicer guy
Put it there pal, put it there
Now and then just throw me a crumb
Put it there pal, put it there
Thanks for the help when I needed it, chum
You saw me drowning, you said I was a fake and laughed
Then you jumped right in and used me for a raft
You shot me down with friendly fire
You were all dressed up to play Gun For Hire
The rope you threw me was made of barbed wire
But put it there pal, put it there, pal
Put it there
I know you mean well, call me a sentimental fool
I know sometimes you've got to be kind to be cruel
When you pat me on the back, that was quite some slap
That kind of compliment, it could kill a chap
So I'll drink your health, oh this emotion's given me a thirst
But maybe I'll have my food-taster drink it first
Put it there pal, put it there
You deserve everything you got coming
Put it there pal, put it there
Call me up if you want to come slumming
Some say you're a rattlesnake in the grass
But I say the sun shines out of your arse
So it's no hard feelings, live and let live
With a gift like yours, you're born to give
You're so full of love it leaks out like a sieve
So put it there pal, put it there pal
Put it there
Put it there
Put it there
Put it there, pal
Put it there, pal
Put it there, pal
This song is one of my absolute favorites, period.
WINTER LIGHT----TIM FINN
It's always in the back of your mind
When everything is dark, still something shines
One chilly afternoon, you drew the blind
The earth was frozen
Ice upon the water
All at once you saw her
There in the Winter Light
Then the light came bouncin' up, from stony ground
And deep within the earth you heard the sound
Breakin' like a rock you grew profound
The earth was frozen
Ice upon the water
All at once you saw her
There in the Winter Light
There in the Winter Light
There in the Winter Light
Making everything look beautiful
Light, a child with his own fantasmagoria
Light that spills from billions of excited atoms
Light that lingers in a quiet room
Reveal for me shine for me
There in the Winter Light
Shine for me, reveal for me
There in the Winter Light
There in the Winter Light
I know there are a couple of Leonard Cohen fans here who have probably at some point giggled inappropriately over... you know, that line in "Chelsea Hotel No. 2". You know which one I mean.
Well, Jeffrey Lewis is a young songwriter from NYC who's not a poet on Cohen's level, but he has a nice quality about him and I think this is a nice piece of meta-songwriting. Hope it's not too explicit for the mods - c'mon, it's not like he's any more graphic than Leonard.
The Chelsea Hotel Oral Sex Song (J. Lewis)
walkin' up 23rd street
i was tired and alone
it was late my housemate
would be asleep when i got home
the sign ahead glowin' red
said the chelsea hotel
where nancy and sid vicious
and my friend dave once dwelled
the street was black under my feet
wich continued their walkin'
though i was vaguely interested
in the folks behind me talkin'
two guys maybe gay
wearin' raver type suits
and a girl wearin' glasses
who looked kinda cute
her hair was short and curly
she had a tattoo on her back
wich i could see cos her red shirt
was sleeveless with straps
but i only saw this later
not in my first glance
but i could hear her talkin behind me
and as if by chance
she was tryin' to describe
a song i knew well
the leonard cohen song
about the chelsea hotel
and i smiled a smile to myself
when she said
that was the song where he talked about
someone giving him head
on the bed was unmade
and how the song was outrageous
and that's when i got
uncaracteristicly courageous
i could left the three of them laughin'
and just gone on home
but i turned and i faced her
and i said "leonard cohen?"
.....just like that....
she was shocked and surprised
but she looked very happy
that she now had a witness
to back up her story
she looked at me
with her spectacled eyes
and said "see i told u"
to the two other guys
my tale might have ending right there and then
but we started talkin' about leonard cohen
how his lyrics were cool
and how he sang so sincere
it must have been true
and it happened right here
usually women right of the bat
don't find me that great
but there we were laughin', scrollin'
like we could really relate
although we didn't mention the head line
it was alluded
and her conversation was better
cos her friends were not included
the guys were more into each other
at least that's how it seemed to me
i heard the faint knocking of opportunity
although it's easy for me now
upon my looking back
to think of all the things
i could have said
to make me the mac
just keep the sad truth in mind
as i tell this to you
that we really only talked
for a minute or two
and i never got her name
and she never got mine
but in this couple short minutes
we had a pretty good time
and on top of that
tho u may not believe it
you know what she says to me next
as i repeat it
that line about gettin a blow job
that leonard sings
she said it made her
want to do naughty things
right about then
i should have asked
if she knew
what the chelsea charged
if we got a room for two
but i didn't and i know
i'm a schmuck, don't you doubt it
the only thing i did
was write this stupid song about it
if i was leonard cohen
or some other songwriting master
i'd know to first get the oral sex
and then write the song AFTER
you can practise writing songs
about romance every day
but if you haven't loved
then you'll have nothing to say
we could have given each other head
on leonard's same unmade bed
but i was too shy to suggest it
and so instead
when the three of them stopped
to look through a pub window
i said good night
tho i had not quite meant to
and waved as we walked tho
i would not forget her
especially when she mysteriously said
see you later
now every time i'm walking
i hope that we'd meet
and on purpose
i always go up 23rd street
where the sign glowin' red
says the chelsea hotel
where nancy and sid vicious
and my friend dave's once dwelled
life doesn't work out
the way it does in old songs
that's why we sing new ones
to say what really goes on
so if i ever see her again
and we pick up right we were ended
maybe i'll play her this song
maybe she won't get too offended
and listen i tell you why
there's more than this situation
than miss the eyes
you may think it's sad
you may think it's pathetic
but i sing this song
and that she will never know it
but think a minute 'bout what that means
and you'll realise it's actually a wonderful thing
that all around the world
there maybe folks singin' tunes
for the love of others folks
they barely knew
and it puts a smile on my face
yes, it do
and let me tell you
you ought to be smillin too
cos the next time you feelin'
kinda lonesome and blue
just think that someone somewhere
might be singin about you
who knows if i'll ever see her again
maybe we'll see this whole time
she could have been singing about me
probably not...
but it could be.
geez, that is sad really. I love Leonard, he is one of the most honest poets around.
This one is fantastic, whether you're a fan of hers or not.
"As is" -Ani Difranco
you can't hide
behind social graces
so don't try
to be all touchy feely
cuz you lie
in my face of all places
but i've got no
problem with that really
what bugs me
is that you believe what you're saying
what bothers me
is that you don't know how you feel
what scares me
is that while you're telling me stories
you actually
believe that they are real
and i've got
no illusions about you
and guess what?
i never did
and when i said
when i said i'll take it
i meant,
i meant as is
just give up
and admit you're an a**hole
you would be
in some good company
i think you'd find
that you friends would forgive you
or maybe i
am just speaking for me
cuz when i look around
i think this, this is good enough
and i try to laugh
at whatever life brings
cuz when i look down
i just miss all the good stuff
when i look up
i just trip over things
and i've got
no illusions about you...
you can't hide
behind social graces
cuz i don't buy it
like everyone else
and you can lie
in my face of all places
just don't
lie to yourself
cuz i've got
no illusions about you
and guess what?
i never did
and when i say
when i say i'll take it
i mean,
i mean as is...
...as is...
Sad, absolutely. But then again, most good songs are sad, I think.Quote:
Originally Posted by rachel
Alright, in celebration of Bob Dylan's 65th birthday :bday_2: here's one of the best songs he's written in the last 30 years or so. At times sad, at times philosophical, at times hilarious. And to think he actually used to play this live - without a lyrics sheet...
HIGHLANDS (B Dylan)
Well my heart's in the Highlands, gentle and fair
Honeysuckle blooming in the wildwood air
Bluebells blazing where the Aberdeen waters flow
Well my heart's in the Highlands,
I'm gonna go there when I feel good enough to go
Windows were shakin' all night in my dreams
Everything was exactly the way that it seems
Woke up this morning and I looked at the same old page
Same ol' rat race
Life in the same ol' cage
I don't want nothing from anyone, ain't that much to take
Wouldn't know the difference between a real blonde and a fake
Feel like a prisoner in a world of mystery
I wish someone would come
And push back the clock for me
Well my heart's in the Highlands wherever I roam
That's where I'll be when I get called home
The wind, it whispers to the buckeyed trees in rhyme
Well my heart's in the Highlands,
I can only get there one step at a time.
I'm listening to Neil Young, I gotta turn up the sound
Someone's always yelling "Turn it down!"
Feel like I'm drifting
Drifting from scene the scene
I'm wondering what in the devil could it all possibly mean?
Insanity is smashing up against my soul
You can say I was on anything but a roll
If I had a conscience, well I just might blow my top
What would I do with it anyway?
Maybe take it to the pawn shop
My heart's in the Highlands at the break of dawn
By the beautiful lake of the Black Swan
Big white clouds, like chariots that swing down low
Well my heart's in the Highlands
Only place left to go
I'm in Boston town, in some restaurant
I got no idea what I want
Well, maybe I do but... I'm just really not sure
Waitress comes over
Nobody in the place but me and her
It must be a holiday, there's nobody around
She studies me closely as I sit down
She got a pretty face and long white shiny legs
I say "Tell me what I want"
She says "You probably want hard boiled eggs"
I say "That's right, bring me some"
She says "We ain't got any, you picked the wrong time to come"
Then she says, "I know you're an artist, draw a picture of me!"
I say, "I would if I could, but
I don't do sketches from memory."
"Well", she says, "I'm right here in front of you, or haven't you looked?"
I say, "All right, I know, but I don't have my drawing book!"
She gives me a napkin, she says, "you can do it on that"
I say, "yes I could but,
I don't know where my pencil is at!"
She pulls one out from behind her ear
She says "All right now, go ahead, draw me, I'm standing right here"
I make a few lines, and I show it for her to see
Well she takes the napkin and throws it back
And says "That don't look a thing like me!"
I said, "Oh, kind miss, it most certainly does"
She says, "You must be jokin'!'" I say, "I wish I was!"
Then she says, "You don't read women authors, do you?"
(Least that's what I think I hear her say)
"Well", I say, "how would you know and what would it matter anyway?"
"Well", she says, "you just don't seem like you do!"
I said, "You're way wrong."
She says, "Which ones have you read then?" I say, "I read... Erica Jong?"
She goes away for a minute and I slide up out of my chair
I step outside back to the busy street, but nobody's going anywhere
Well my heart's in the Highlands, with the horses and hounds
Way up in the border country, far from the towns
With the twang of the arrow and a snap of the bow
My heart's in the Highlands
Can't see any other way to go
Every day is the same thing out the door
Feel further away then ever before
Some things in life, it just gets too late to learn
Well, I'm lost somewhere
I must have made a few bad turns
I see people in the park forgetting their troubles and woes
They're drinking and dancing, wearing bright colored clothes
All the young men with their young women looking so good
Well, I'd trade places with any of them
In a minute, if I could
I'm crossing the street to get away from a mangy dog
Talking to myself in a monologue
I think what I need might be a full length leather coat
Somebody just asked me
If I registered to vote
The sun is beginning to shine on me
But it's not like the sun that used to be
The party's over, and there's less and less to say
I got new eyes
Everything looks far away
Well, my heart's in the Highlands at the break of day
Over the hills and far away
There's a way to get there, and I'll figure it out somehow
But I'm already there in my mind
And that's gonna have to be good enough for now.
Piss Factory
Patti Smith
Sixteen and time to pay off
I get this job in a piss factory inspecting the pipe
Forty hours, thirty-six dollars a week
But it's a paycheck, Jack.
It's so hot in here, hot like Sahara
You could faint from the heat
But these *****es are just too lame to understand
Too goddamned grateful to get this job
To know they're getting screwed up the ***
All these women who got no teeth or gum or cranium
And the way they suck hot sausage
But me well I wasn't sayin' too much neither
I was moral school girl hard-working *******
I figured I was speedo motorcycle
Had to earn my dough, had to earn my dough
But no you gotta, you gotta relate, right?
You gotta find the rhythm within
Floor boss slides up to me and says
"Hey sister, you just movin' too fast,
You're screwin' up the quota,
You doin' your piece work too fast,
Now you get off your mustang sally
You ain't goin' nowhere, you ain't goin' nowhere."
I lay back. I get my nerve up. I take a swig of Romilar
And walk up to hot **** Dot Hook and I say "Hey,
Hey sister it don't matter whether I do labor fast or slow,
There's always more labor after."
She's real Catholic, see. She fingers her cross and she says
"There is one reason. There is one reason.
You do it my way or I push your face in.
We knee you in the john if you don't get off your get off your mustang Sally,
If you don't shake it up baby." Shake it up, baby. Twist & shout
Oh would I could have a radio here. James Brown singing
"I Lost Someone" or the Jesters and the Paragons
And Georgie Woods the guy with the goods and Guided Missiles ...
But no, I got nothin', no diversion, no window,
Nothing here but a porthole in the plaster, in the plaster,
Where I look down, look down at sweet Theresa's convent
All those nurses, all those nuns scattin' 'round
With their blue hoods like cats in mourning.
Oh to me they, you know, to me they look pretty damn free down there
Down there not having crystal smooth
Not having to smooth those hands against hot steel
Not having to worry about the inspeed the dogma the inspeed of labor
They look pretty damn free down there,
And the way they smell, the way they smell
And here I gotta be up here smellin' Dot Hook's midwife sweat
I would rather smell the way boys smell--
All those schoolboys the way their legs flap under the desks in study hall
That odor rising roses and ammonia
And way their dicks droop like lilacs
Oh the way they smell that forbidden acrid smell
But no I got, I got pink clammy lady in my nostril
Her against the wheel me against the wheel
Oh the slow motion inspection is drivin' me insane
In steel next to Dot Hook -- oh we may look the same--
Shoulder to shoulder sweatin' 110 degrees
But I will never faint, I will never faint
They laugh and they expect me to faint but I will never faint
I refuse to lose, I refuse to fall down
Because you see it's the monotony that's got to me
Every afternoon like the last one
Every afternoon like a rerun next to Dot Hook
And yeah we look the same
Both pumpin' steel, both sweatin'
But you know she got nothin' to hide
And I got something to hide here called desire
I got something to hide here called desire
And I will get out of here--
You know the fiery potion is just about to come
In my nose is the taste of sugar
And I got nothin' to hide here save desire
And I'm gonna go, I'm gonna get out of here
I'm gonna get out of here, I'm gonna get on that train,
I'm gonna go on that train and go to New York City
I'm gonna be somebody, I'm gonna get on that train, go to New York City,
I'm gonna be so bad I'm gonna be a big star and I will never return,
Never return, no, never return, to burn out in this piss factory
Watch me now.