Here are some more selections from my collection of music favorites over the years. This time around lets remember back to first seeing Jesus on that barstool in Miami, get Way Away listening to sympathetic lies, and reflect back to a fond memory.
Enjoy…
Gotta Know Now – Primitive Radio Gods
I saw you standing in the doorway in the corner
Of the room where I observed you looking out the kitchen window
I wanna throw my arms around you like a lonely hidden dirge (?)
A marijuana smoke is blowing out the screen door
Let me in, let me out, let me go, let me up
Let me down, let me stay, let me know
Let me hear, let me see, let me sigh
Let me think, for the truth, for the truth, gonna try
I wanna write your lucky number on the scrap of paper towel
I confiscated from the restroom of the hotel
I wanna give you a massage and watch “Bonanza”
Clip your toenails, order Chinese food and eat it with our fingers
Let me in, let me out, let me go, let me up
Let me down, let me stay, let me know
Let me be, let me see, let me sigh
Let me think, for the truth, for the truth, gonna try
Gotta know, gotta know, gotta know, gotta know now
Gotta know, gotta know, gotta know, gotta know now
This time it’s nothing like the first time I saw Jesus
Drinking seven bloody Marys on the bar stool in Miami
This night is nothing like the time I saw Picasso
Throwing rings of cigar smoke around the head of Fidel Castro
Let me in, let me out, let me go, let me up
Let me down, let me stay, let me know
Let me feel, let me see, let me sigh
Let me see, for the truth, for the truth, gonna try
Let me in, let me out, let me go, let me up
Let me down, let me stay, let me know
Let me be, let me see, let me sigh
Let me see, for the truth, for the truth, gonna try
Gotta know, gotta know, gotta know, gotta know now
Gotta know, gotta know, gotta know, gotta know now
Way Away – Toad the Wet Sprocket
Line of people to pass you by
Posing sympathy with its whitewash eyes
With the ladies feigning their mourning cries
And the men shaking hands:
Weigh away
Way away
All the pictures in your mind
As you’re passed the thousandth time
Thousandth photograph
Listen to sympathetic lies
As their reasons change under mourning guise
With the gentlemen feigning sorrowed sighs
And drinking champagne:
Weigh away
Way away
As all the people pass and pose
You hold back the tears
And hold onto memories
Small talk hangs like a dirty cloud
Saying nothing real but deafening loud
An urge to run away from the crowd
And mourn all alone:
Make a promise to no-one
Wondering if you’d been worthwhile
Turn away from the chatter
And the hungry smiles
Verdi Cries – 10,000 Maniacs
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.
dave's word 