| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
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Oh Mum the dreams are not so bad
It's just that there's so much to do And I'm tired of sleepin Oh Mum the old man is telling me something His eyes are wide and his mouth is thin and I just can't hear what he's saying Oh Mum I wonder when I'll be wakened It's just that there's so much to do And I'm tired of sleeping Oh Mum I wonder when I'll be wakened It's just that there's so much to do And I'm tired of sleeping Oh Mum the kids are playing in pennies They're up to their knees in money And the dirt of the churchyard steps Oh Mum that man he ripped out his lining Tore out a piece of his body To show us his clean courted heart Oh Mum I wonder when I'll be wakened It's just that there's so much to do And I'm tired of sleeping Oh Mum I wonder when I'll be wakened It's just that there's so much to do And I'm tired of sleeping Oh Mum the bird on the string is hanging Bones are twisting and dancing She's fighting for her small life Oh Mum I wonder when I'll be wakened It's just that there's so much to do And I'm tired of sleeping Oh Mum I wonder when I'll be wakened It's just that there's so much to do And I'm tired of sleeping Oh Mum I wonder when I'll be wakened It's just that there's so much to do And I'm tired of sleeping |
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| 2. |
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Men in a war
If they've lost a limb Still feel that limb As they did before He lay on a cot He was drenched in a sweat He was mute and staring But feeling the thing He had not I know how it is When something is gone A piece of your eyesight Or maybe your vision A corner of sense Goes blank on the screen A piece of the scan Gets filled in by hand You know that it was And now it is not So you just make do with Whatever you've got Men in a war If they've lost a limb Still feel that limb As they did before If your nerve is cut If you're kept on the stretch You don't feel your will You can't find your gut And she lay on her back She made sure she was hid She was mute and staring Not feeling the thing That she did I know how it is When something is gone A piece of your eyesight Or maybe your vision |
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| 3. |
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Now the time has come to speak
I was not able And water through a rusted pipe Could make the sense that I do Gurgle, mutter Hiss, stutter Moan the words like water Rush and foam and choke Having waited This long of a winter I fear I only Croak and sigh Somewhere deep within Hear the creak That lets the tale begin Now the time has come to move I was not able Water through a rusted pipe Could make the moves that I do Stagger, stumble Trip, fumble I fear I only Slip and slide Somewhere deep within Hear the creak That lets the tale begin Somewhere deep within Hear the creak That lets the tale begin |
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| 4. |
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Book Of Dreams
In my book of dreams In my book of dreams In my book of dreams I took your urgent whisper Stole the arc of a white wing Rode like foam on the river of pity Turned its tide to strength Healed the hole that ripped in living In my book of dreams In my book of dreams In my book of dreams The spine is bound to last a life Tough enough to take the pounding Pages made of days of open hand In my book of dreams In my book of dreams In my book of dreams Number every page in silver Underline in magic marker Take the name of every prisoner Yours is there my word of honor I took your urgent whisper Stole the arc of a white wing Rode like foam on the river of pity Healed the hole that ripped in living In my book of dreams In my book of dreams In my book of dreams |
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| 5. |
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Institution green
The walls are cracked and dim And we are standing in a line Waiting for our faces to be seen Institution green Watch the floor and cound the hours None will meet my eyes Private people in this public place I wonder if they'll take a look Find my name inside that book Lose me on the printed page Where to point the aimless rage I cast my vote upon this earth Take my place for what it's worth Hunger for a pair of eyes To notice and to regognize Institution green A woman stands behind a table She will call my name After that I'll be admitted in I wonder if she'll take a look Find my name inside that book Lose me on the printed page Where to point the aimless rage I cast my vote upon this earth Take my place for what it's worth Hunger for a pair of eyes To notice and to regognize Institution green Teach me how to pull the lever Push the curtain closed Take what's needed then just Let me go |
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| 6. |
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Those whole girls
Hurl down words Run in packs With bloom to spare They know health Know it well Skim the cream And fill the brim Drip with news Spin intact Blaze and stun And feel no lack Breathe with ease Need no mercy Move in light Run in grace Run in grace Run in grace Run in grace |
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| 7. |
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Somewhere in a room
With a poster on a wall Of a man with his hand In a fist Is a woman who's drinking And her dress is so tight You can see every breath That she takes Every sigh, every sway You can hear everything that they say Something's begun like a war Or a family or a friendship Or a fast love affair The man on the wall Is his symbol of freedom It means he has brothers Who believe as he does She is moved by The thing that she sees in his face Whe he talks of The cause Every sigh, every sway You can hear everything that they say Something's begun like a war Or a family or a friendship Or a fast love affair She leans against him Her dress is so red They talk of the salt And the truth and the bread The night goes along The fan goes around In the room off the street At the end of the town Every sigh, every sway You can hear everything that they say Something's begun like a war Or a family or a friendship Or a fast love affair |
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| 8. |
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He said you stand in your own shoes
I said I'd rather stand in someone else's He said you look from your direction I said I like to keep perspective Close to the middle of the network It seems we're looking for a center What if it turns out to be hollow? We could be fixing what is broken Between the pen and the paperwork There must be passion in the language Between the muscle and the brain work There must be feeling in the pipeline Beyond the duty and the discipline I know there's anger in a cold place All feelings fall into the big space Swept up like garbage on the week-end Between the pen and the paperwork There must be passion in the language Between the muscle and the brain work There must be feeling in the pipeline All feeling Falls into the big space All feeling Swept into the Avenues of angles Between the pen and the paperwork I'm sure there's passion in the language Between the muscle and the brain work I know there's feeling in the pipeline |
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| 9. |
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Let's tell the future
Let's see how it's been done. By numbers. By mirrors. By water. By dots made at random on paper. By salt. By dice. By meal. By mice. By dough of cakes. By sacrificial fire. By fountains. By fishes. Writing in ashes. Birds. Herbs. Smoke from the altar. A suspended ring or the mode of laughing Pebbles drawn from a heap One of these things Will tell you something. Let's tell the future Let's see how it's been done. By dreams. By the features. By letters. By dropping hot wax into water. By nails reflecting the rays of the sun. By waling in a circle. By red hot iron. By passages in books. A balanced hatchet. A suspended ring or the mode of laughing Pebbles drawn from a heap One of these things Will tell you something. Let's tell the future Let's see how it's been done. How it's been done. |
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| 10. |
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| 11. |
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This line is burning
Turning to ash as it hits the air Every step is a day in the week It's a Sunday or Monday A march over months of the year This life is burning Turning to ash as it hits the air Every death is an end in the race It's a stopping and starting A march over millions of years Travel. Arrival Years of an inch and a step Toward a source I'm coming to you I'll be there in time This land is burning Turning to ash as it hits the air Every line is a place on a map It's a city or valley A mark on these miles of fields Travel. Arrival Years of an inch and a step Toward a source I'm coming to you I'll be there in time This line is burning Turning to ash as it hits the air Every step is a day in the week It's a Wednesday or Thursday A march over months of the year Travel. Arrival Years of an inch and a step Toward a source I'm coming to you I'll be there in time I'm coming to you I'll be there in time Take this Mute mouth Broken tongue. Now this Dark life Is shot through with light |
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