| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| 3:21 | 
|
|||
|
He was my brother
Five years older than I He was my brother Twenty-three years old the day he died Freedom writer They cursed my brother to his face Go home outsider This town's gonna be your buryin' place He was singin' on his knees An angry mob trailed along They shot my brother dead Because he hated what was wrong He was my brother Tears can't bring him back to me He was my brother And he died so his brothers could be free He died so his brothers could be free |
||||||
| 2. |
| 2:58 |
|
|||
|
I was twenty one years
when I wrote this song twenty two now but I won't be for long Time hurries on And the leaves that are green turn to brown And they wither in the wind And they crumble in your hand Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl I held her close but she faded in the night Like a poem I meant to write And the leaves that are green turn to brown And they wither in the wind And they crumble in your hand I threw a pebble in a brook And watched the ripple run away And they never made a sound And the leaves that are green turn to brown And they wither in the wind And they crumble in your hand Hello hello hello hello Goodbye goodbye goodbye goodbye That's all there is And the leaves that are green turn to brown |
||||||
| 3. |
| 3:06 |
|
|||
|
Who will love a little sparrow
Who's traveled far and cries for rest Not I said the Oak Tree I won't share my branches with no sparrow's nest And my blanket of leaves won't warm her cold breast Who will love a little sparrow And who will speak a kindly word Not I said the Swan The entire idea is utterly absurd I'd be laughed at and scorned if the other swans heard Who will take pity in his heart And who will feed a starving sparrow Not I said the Golden Wheat I would if I could but I cannot I know I need all my grain to prosper and grow Who will love a little sparrow Will no one write her eulogy I will said the Earth For all I've created returns unto me From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be |
||||||
| 4. |
| 2:40 |
|
|||
|
I'm sitting in the railway station.
Got a ticket to my destination. On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand. And ev'ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band. Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound, Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing, Home where my love lies waiting Silently for me. Ev'ry day's an endless stream Of cigarettes and magazines. And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories And ev'ry stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be, Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound, Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing, Home where my love lies waiting Silently for me. Tonight I'll sing my songs again, I'll play the game and pretend. But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me. Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound, Home where my thought's escaping, Home where my music's playing, Home where my love lies waiting Silently for me. Silently for me. |
||||||
| 5. |
| 2:07 |
|
|||
|
You don't know that you love me
You don't know but I know that you do You may think that you're above me, yeah What you think isn't always true Don't try to debate me, You should know that I'm womanly wise Still you try to manipulate me You don't know where your interest lies No, you don't know where your interest lies You don't begin to comprehend You're just a game I like to play You may think that we're friends all right But I won't let friendship get in my way, No, I won't let friendship get in my way, Indications indicate running the same riff will turn you around Obviously you're going to blow it, But you don't know it You don't know that you love me You don't know but I know that you do You may think that you're above me, yeah What you think isn't always true Don't try to debate me, You should know that I'm womanly wise Still you try to manipulate me You don't know where your interest lies No, you don't know where your interest |
||||||
| 6. |
| 3:00 |
|
|||
|
He was a most peculiar man
That's what Mrs. Riordan says and she should know She lived upstairs from him She said he was a most peculiar man He was a most peculiar man He lived all alone within a house Within a room, within himself A most peculiar man He had no friends, he seldom spoke And no one in turn ever spoke to him 'Cause he wasn't friendly and he didn't care And he wasn't like them Oh no! He was a most peculiar man He died last Saturday He turned on the gas and he went to sleep With the windows closed so he'd never wake up To his silent world and his tiny room And Mrs. Riordan says he has a brother somewhere Who should be notified soon And all the people said, "What a shame that he's dead But wasn't he a most peculiar man?" |
||||||
| 7. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last. Just kicking down the cobble stones. Looking for fun and feelin' groovy. Hello lamppost, What cha knowing? I've come to watch your flowers growing. Ain't cha got no rhymes for me? Doot-in' doo-doo, Feelin' groovy. Got no deeds to do, No promises to keep. I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep. Let the morning time drop all its petals on me. Life, I love you, All is groovy. |
||||||
| 8. |
| - |
|
|||
|
It's a still life water color, Of a now late afternoon, As the sun shines through the curtained lace And shadows wash the room. And we sit and drink our coffee Couched in our indifference, Like shells upon the shore You can hear the ocean roar In The Dangling Conversation And the superficial sighs, The borders of our lives. And you read your Emily Dickinson, And I my Robert Frost, And we note our place with bookmarkers That measure what we've lost. Like a poem poorly written We are verses out of rhythm, Couplets out of rhyme, In syncopated time And The Dangling Conversation And the superficial sighs Are the borders of our lives. Yes we speak of things that matter, With words that must be said, "Can analysis be worthwhile?" "Is the theater really dead?" And how the room is softly faded And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot feel your hand, You're a stranger now unto me Lost in The Dangling Conversation And the superficial sighs In the borders of our lives. |
||||||
| 9. |
| 3:24 |
|
|||
|
They say that Richard Cory owns one half of this whole town
With political connections to spread his wealth around Born into society, a banker's only child He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style But I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be Oh I wish that I could be Oh I wish that I could be Richard Cory The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes Richard Cory at the opera, Richard Cory at a show And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht! Oh he surely must be happy with everything he's got But I, I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be Oh I wish that I could be Oh I wish that I could be Richard Cory He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch And they were grateful for his patronage and they thanked him very much So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read: "Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head" But I, I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be Oh I wish that I could be Oh I wish that I could be Richard Cory |
||||||
| 10. |
| 2:38 |
|
|||
|
Time,
Time, Time, see what's become of me While I looked around for my possibilities. I was so hard to please. Look around, Leaves are brown, And the sky is a hazy shade of winter. Hear the Salvation Army band. Down by the riverside's Bound to be a better ride Than what you've got planned. Carry your cup in your hand. And look around. Leaves are brown. And the sky is a hazy shade of winter. Hang on to your hopes, my friend. That's an easy thing to say, But if your hopes should pass away Simply pretend that you can build them again. Look around, The grass is high, The fields are ripe, It's the springtime of my life. Seasons change with the scenery; Weaving time in a tapestry. Won't you stop and remember me At any convenient time? Funny how my memory skips Looking over manuscripts Of unpublished rhyme. Drinking my vodka and lime, I look around, Leaves are brown, And the sky is a hazy shade of winter. |
||||||
| 11. |
| 2:55 |
|
|||
|
Benedictus qui est venit
In nomine Domine In nomine In nomine In nomine Domine In nomine Domine In nomine In nomine In nomine Domine |
||||||
| 12. |
| 3:46 |
|
|||
|
Blessed are the meek
for they shall in herit Blessed is the lamb whose blood flows Blessed are the sat upon spat upon ratted on O Lord why have you forsaken me I got no place to go I've walked around So ho for the last night or so Ah but it doesn't matter no Blessed is the land and the kingdom Blessed is the man whose soul belongs to Blessed are the meth drinkers pot sellers illusion dwellers O Lord why have you forsaken me My words trickle down from a wound That I have no intention to heal Blessed are the stained glass window pane glass Blessed is the church service makes me nervous Blessed are the penny rookers cheap hookers groovy lookers O Lord why have you forsaken me I have tended my own garden much too long |
||||||
| 13. |
| 4:46 |
|
|||
|
The last train is nearly due
The underground is closing soon And in the dark deserted station Restless in anticipation A man waits in the shadows His restless eyes leap and scratch At all that they can touch or catch And hidden deep within his pocket Safe within its silent socket He holds a colored crayon Now from the tunnel's stony womb The carriage rides to meet the groom And open wide and welcome doors But he hesitates, and then withdraws Deeper in the shadows And the train is gone suddenly On wheels clicking silently Like a gently tapping litany And he holds his crayon rosary Tighter in his hand Now from his pocket quick he flashes The crayon on the wall he slashes Deep upon the advertising A single worded poem consisting Of four letters And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding The poem across the tracks rebounding Shadowed by the exit light His legs take their ascending flight To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night |
||||||
| 14. |
| 2:28 | 
|
|||
| 15. |
| 2:58 |
|
|||
|
A winter's dat in a deep and dark December
I am alone Gazing from my window to the streets below On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow I am a rock I am an island I've built walls, A fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate I have no need of friendship, friendship cause pain. It's laughter ad it's loving I disdain. I am a rock I am an island Don't talk of love Well. I've heard the words before. It's sleeping in my memory I won't distrub the slumber of feelings that have died If I never loved I never would have cried I am a rock I am an island I have my books and my poetry to protect me I am shielded in my armor, hinding in my room, safe within mt womb I touch no one touches me. I am a rock I am an island And a rock feels no pain Abd an island never cries |
||||||
| 16. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Hello darkness my old friend
I've come to talk with you again Because a vision softly creeping Left its seeds while I was sleeping And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains Within the sound of silence In restless dreams I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone 'Neath the halo of a street lamp I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night And touched the sound of silence And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never share And no one dared Disturb the sound of silence 'Fools' said I 'You do not know Silence like a cancer grows Hear my words that I might teach you Take my arms that I might reach you But my words like silent raindrops fell And echoed In the wells of silence And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made And the sign flashed out its warning In the words that it was forming And the sign said 'The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls And tenement halls And whisper'd in the sounds of silence |
||||||
| 17. |
| 2:40 |
|
|||
|
what a dream I had
Pressed in Organdy Clothed in crinoline Of smocky burgundy Softer than the rain I wandered empty streets down Past the shop displays I heard cathedral bells Tripping down the alleyways As I walked on And when you ran to me Your cheeks fleshed with the night We walked on frosted fields Of juniper and lamplight I held your hand And when I awoke And felt you warm and near I kissed your honey hair With my grateful tears Oh,I live you girl Oh,I love you |
||||||
| 18. |
| 3:44 |
|
|||
|
A church is burning
the flames rise higher Like hands that are praying a glow in the sky Like hands that are praying the fire is saying You can burn down my churches but I shall be free Three hooded men thru the back roads did creep Torches in their hands while the village lies asleep Down to the church where just hours before Voices were singing and hands were beating and saying I won't be a slave any more and a church is burning the flames rise higher Like hands that are praying a glow in the sky Like hands that are praying the fire is saying You can burn down my churches but I shall be free Three hooded men their hands lit the spark Then they faded in the night and they vanished in the dark And in the cool light of morning there's nothing that remains But the ashes of a Bible and a can kerosene and a church is burning the flames rise higher Like hands that are praying a glow in the sky Like hands that are praying the fire is saying You can burn down my churches but I shall be free church is more than just timber and stone And freedom is a dark road when you're walking it alone But the future is now and it's time to take a stand So the lost bells of freedom can ring out in my land and a church is burning the flames rise higher Like hands that are praying a glow in the sky Like hands that are praying the fire is saying You can burn down my churches but I shall be free |
||||||
| 19. |
| 3:36 |
|
|||
|
I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love
as she lies here beside me asleep with the night and her hair in a fine mist floats on my pillow reflecting the glow of the winter moonlight she is soft, she is warm, but my heart remains heavy and I watch as her breasts, gently rise, gently fall for I know with the first line of dawn I'll be leaving and tonight will be all I have left to recall oh what have I done, why have I done it? I've committed a crime, I've broken the law for 25 dollars and pieces of silver I held up and robbed a hard liquor store my life seems unreal, my crime an illusion a scene badly written in which I must play yet I know as I gaze at my young love beside me the morning is just a few hours away |
||||||
|
