LYRIC MOSAIC

Oh my Oh my what a wretched life I was born on the day that my poor Mummy died, I was cut from her belly with a stanley knife my Daddy did a jig with the drunk midwife.

Run, rabbit run. Dig that hole, forget the sun, and when at last the work is done don't sit down it's time to dig another one.

I made a wish on sliver of moonlight, a sly grin and a bowl full of stars. Like a kid who captures a firefly and leaves it only to die in the jar.

But yes, I think it can very easily done. Just put some bleachers out in the sun and have it on Highway 61.

I remember a girl so bold and so bright, loose-limbed and laughing and brazen and bare,
Sits gnawing her knuckles in the chemical light, O where do we go now but nowhere.

 

There is a man, a certain man, and for the poor you may be sure that he'll do all he can.
Who is this one? This favourite son? Who by his action has the traction magnets on the run?
Who likes to smoke? Enjoys a joke? and wouldn't get a bit upset if he were really broke?
With wealth and fame he's still the same. 

I'll bet you five you're not alive if you don't now his name.

A letter to you on a cassette, 'cause we don't write anymore.
Gotta make it up quickly, there's people asleep on the second floor.

I was kicked off my land at the age of sixteen,

and I have no idea where else my heart could have been.
I placed all my trust at the foot of this hill,

and now I am sure my heart can never be still.

They keep no fear, no second prize, walking like Jesus with voodoo in their eyes.
They come in green, they leave in black, holding dead roses with bullets in their backs.

 

I don't care if it hurts

I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I've got one foot on the platform, the other foot on the train.

I'm going back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain.

I’m gazing out the window of the St. James Hotel.

And I know no one can sing the blues Like Blind Willie McTell.

Patchwork thievery, a qrotesque mockery, a heap of broken images.

Aren't we all?