Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 4:51 | ||||
( Robert Buck/Natalie Merchant )
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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2. |
| 3:26 | ||||
( Robert Buck/Natalie Merchant )
Hey Jack Kerouac, I think of your mother and the tears she cried, they were criedfor none other than her little boy lost in our little world that hated and that dared to drag him down, her little boy courageous. who chose his words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood. Hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts. they all spoke through you. Hey Jack, now for the tricky part, when you were the brightest star, who were the shadows? Of the San Francisco beat boys you were the favorite. Now they sit and rattle their bones and think of their blood stoned days. You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood. The hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts, in Chinatown howling at night. Allen baby, why so jaded? Have the boys all grown up and their beauty faded? Billy, what a saint they've made you, just like Mary down in Mexico on All Souls' Day. You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood. Cool junk booting madmen, street minded girls in Harlem, howling at night. What a tear stained shock of the world, you've gone away without saying goodbye. |
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3. |
| 3:57 | ||||
Color of the sky as far as I can see is coal grey.
Lift my head from the pillow and then fall again. Shiver in my bones, just thinking about the weather. Quiver in my lip as if I might cry. Well by the force of will my lungs are filled and so I breathe. Lately it seems this big bed is where I never leave. Shiver in my bones, just thinking about the weather. A quiver in my voice as I cry, What a cold and a rainy day. Where on earth is the sun hid away? Hear the sound of a noon bell chime. Well I'm far behind. You've put in 'bout half a day while here I lie With a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather. A quiver in my voice as if I might cry, What a cold and rainy day. Where on earth is the sun hid away? Do I need someone here to scold me or do I need someone who'll grab and pull me out of four poster dull torpor pulling downward. For it is such a long time since my better days. I say my prayers nightly this will pass away. The color of the sky is grey as I can see through the blinds. Lift my head from the pillow and then fall again Shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather. A quiver in my voice as if I might cry, A cold and a rainy day. Where on earth is the sun hid away? A cold and a rainy day I shiver, quiver, and try to wake. |
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4. |
| 3:14 | ||||
<i>(Robert Buck/Natalie Merchant)
</i> Over your shoulder, please don't mind me if my eyes have fallen onto your magazine Oh I've been watching and wondering why your face is changing with every line you read. For all those lines and circles, to me, a mystery. Eve pull down the apple and give a taste to me. For if she could it would be wonderful, but my pride is in the way. I cannot read to save my life, I'm so ashamed to say. I live in silence, afraid to speak of my life in darkness because I cannot read. But all those lines and circles, to me, a mystery. Eve pull down the apple and give a taste to me. For if she could it would be wonderful. Then I wouldn't need someone else's eyes to see what's in front of me. No one guiding me. It makes me humble to be so green at what every kid can do when he learns A to Z, But all those lines and circles just frighten me and I fear that I'll be trampled if you don't reach for me. Before I run I'll have to take a fall. And then I pick myself up, so slowly I'll devour every one of those books in the Tower of Knowledge. |
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5. |
| 3:39 | ||||
( Jerome Augustyniak/Natalie Merchant )
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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6. |
| 5:05 | ||||
( Dennis Drew/Natalie Merchant )
Don't talk, I will listen. Don't talk, you keep your distance for I'd rather hear some truth tonight than entertain your lies, so take you poison silently. Let me be. Let me close my eyes. Don't talk, I'll believe it. Don't talk, listen to me instead, I know that if you think of it, both long enough and hard the drink you drown your troubles in is the trouble you're in now. Talk talk talk about it, if you talk as if you care but when your talk is over tilt that bottle in the air, tossing back more than your share. Don't talk, I can guess it. Don't talk, well now your restless and you need somewhere to put the blame for how you feel inside. You'll look for a close and easy mark and you'll see me as fair game. Talk talk talk about it, talk as if you care but when your talk is over tilt that bottle in the air tossing back more than your share. You talk talk talk about it, you talk as if you care. I'm marking every word and can tell this time for sure, your talk is the finest I have heard. So don't talk, let me go on dreaming. How your eyes they glow so fiercely I can tell your inspired by the name you chose for me. Now what was it? O, never mind it. We will talk talk talk about this when your head is clear. I'll discuss this in the morning, but until then you may talk but I won't hear. |
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7. |
| 4:12 | ||||
I always knew that you would take yourself far from home
as soon as, as far as you could go. By the 1/4 inch cut of your hair and the Army issue green, for the past eight weeks I can tell where you've been. For I knew, I could see, it was all cut and dried to me there was soldier's blue blood streaming inside your veins. There is a world outside of this room and when you meet it promise me you won't meet it with your gun. So now you are one of the brave few, it's awful sad we need boys like you. I hope the day never comes for "Here's your live round son. Stock and barrel, safety, trigger, here's your gun." Well I knew, I could see, it was all cut and dried to me there was soldiers blue blood streaming inside your veins. There is a world outside of this room and when you meet it promise me you won't meet it with your gun taking aim. For I don't mean to argue, they've made a decent boy of you and I don't mean to spoil your home coming, but baby brother you should expect me to. "Stock and barrel, safety, trigger, here's your gun." So now does your heart pitter pat with a patriotic song when you see the stripes of Old Glory waving? Well I knew, I could see, it was all cut and dried to me there was soldier's blue blood streaming inside your veins. There is a world outside of this room and when you meet it promise me you won't meet it with your gun taking aim. I don't mean to argue, they've made a decent boy of you and I don't mean to spoil your homecoming my baby brother Jude and I don't mean to hurt you by saying this again, they're so good at making soldiers but they're not so good at making men. |
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8. |
| 3:13 | ||||
( Jerome Augustyniak/Natalie Merchant )
Big plans are being made for my sister's wedding day. We'll have a ball at the Sons of Roma Hall. Family, friends come one and all. First the best man makes a toast to Rocky and my sister Rose, "A life of years free of tears. Bottoms up and lots of luck!" ' Polka, tango everyone, cha-cha, mambo Rose and Rock alone. Frankie Rizzo and his Combo play on. Single girls all hear the call from a crowd at the back wall and when the bouquet flies each one tries to be the best catch and next years bride. Uncle Sam and Uncle Joe take their places in the row. They're standing by side to side for dollar dances with the bride. Polka, tango everyone, cha-cha, mambo, Rose and Rock alone. "He's a banker, she'll be well off now." Sister Rose take your mother's place. Trade your home and your maiden name. For a list of vows and a veil of lace made a wife of you today. Now they cut the five tier cake, "That Colucci, he can bake." A frosted tower of sugar and flour for the couple of the hour. Polka, tango everyone, cha-cha, mambo Rose and Rock alone. She was born to wear that gown. Sister Rose take your mother's place. Trade your home and your maiden name. For a list of vows and a veil of lace made a wife of you today, but you're my sister Rose the same. |
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9. |
| 3:15 | ||||
A lie to say, "O my mountain has coal veins and beds to dig.
500 men with axes and they all dig for me." A lie to say, "O my river where many fish do swim, half of the catch is mine when you haul your nets in." Never will he believe that his greed is a blinding ray. No devil or redeemer will cheat him. He'll take his gold to where he's lying cold. A lie to say, "O my mine gave a diamond as big as a fist." But with every gem in his pocket, the jewels he has missed. A lie to say, "O my garden is growing taller by the day." He only eats the best and tosses the rest away. Never will he be believe that his greed is a blinding ray. No devil or redeemer can cheat him. he'll take his gold to where he's lying cold. Six deep in the grave. Something is out of reach something he wanted something is out of reach he's being taunted something is out of reach that he can' beg or steal nor can he buy his oldest pain and fear in life there'll not be time his oldest pain and fear in life there'll not be time A lie to say "O my forest has trees that block the sun and when I cut them down I don't answer to anyone." No, no, never will he believe that his greed is a blinding ray no devil or redeemer can cheat him. He'll take his gold where he's lying cold. |
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10. |
| 4:18 | ||||
( Robert Buck/Natalie Merchant )
Heaven, is this heaven where we are? See them walking, if you dare, if you call that walking. Stumble, stagger, fall and drag themselves along the streets of heaven. Where is the blessed table to feed all who hunger on earth, welcomed and seated each one joyfully served? See them walking, if you dare, if you call that walking. Stumble, stagger, fall and drag themselves along the streets of heaven. Where is the halo that should glow 'round your face, and where are the wings that should grow from your shoulder blades? Show them to me. These are sobering sights I've seen in the City of Angels have all been one rude awakening that was dues to me in heaven. There would have been heavenly music I was convinced before. A host of the dearly to meet me with Hosannas sung at the door, but these are sobering sights I've seen in the City of Angels have all been one rude awakening that was dues to me in heaven. In this city of fallen angels. |
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11. |
| 4:25 | ||||
( Natalie Merchant )
( piano: Don Grolnick/cello: Dennis Karmazyn/viola: Novi/bass: Bob Magnusson/string arrangement: David Campbell ) 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. |