Borderlandswith Lyrics

7/29/2019 Borderlandswith Lyrics

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THE HOUSE ON THE BORDERLAND

We dragged the coal-charred childrenFrom the wreckageThe wind whipped through the twisted cage

Of shrieking steelAnd splintered glassThree men produced the funeral MassThat began and endedWithout reposeThe waiter then recited prose(as we dragged the wilted tulips

from their soon lamented stand)

Traveling lightOn a summer nightTo the House on the Borderland

We pounded our sun-swelled snaresFrom the gravestoneTen bugles belched a solemn moanIn harmonyWith the morning crowdThe parson wore a sequined shroudAnd touched the frozen faces

With a coal-scarred thumbThe waited praised the deaf and dumb(as we pounded the pine package

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to the soon redeeming sand)

Traveling lightOn a summer nightTo the House on the Borderland

We raised the bleached-bare bannersFrom the wreckageThe wind raced in a willful rageFrom clouds that weptWith unseen eyesThe digger found his paradiseIn a harbored hymn

Of crumpled gleeThe waiter polished up the fee(as we raised our heads in mourningaccompanied by the band)

Traveling lightOn a summer night

To the House on the Borderland

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COMMANDMENTS OF DOG

I

halfway through the silent graveyardScarred with broken relics, stone and algaeCracked inscriptions, shackled motion,

shornFrom lights fertility in fertile bondage, lostWithin the stillnessBeyond the harvest orchard, dyingBeyond the breathless voice, pursuing timeWithin the stillnessWinter is spring and summer is fall

And waste is sweetness on the desert air

Midnight riddles light with darknessGiving form to void and shape to fearLeaving word unspoken, silence unattendedasDarkness finds its image on a shadow as

Darkness finds its body by the wallAnd still, as motion settles (as the shadowstrays)

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Tush, tush, he said, it wont appear,wont appear

Life becomes death and death bridles lightAnd darkness haunts the minstrel as heplays

Midway through that fruitful autumnThe wharf is stale, the stems are broken,

deadThe snake has lost its skin, the rock hasshedIts moss within the seasons muggy wombBeyond the barren harbor, waitingBeyond the humpbacked lamp, disarmingfate

Within the stillnessTime withers age and age withers silence

And silence echoes rageUnattended

Twelve oclockThe lamp explodesA single chime consoles eternity

And lobster pots are creaking by the bay,rottedAnd crumbling, caressing each other in

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decayAnd darkness drops again, climbs along the

Shuttered lanes and creeps among the aridbrainsAmong the deadAnd swarms up to the darkness that is light

Twelve oclockThe streets curl up into that twisted glare

And fall asleep

Silence cranes its neck beyond the cloudedmoonRolls its savage eye into the hollows of themoment(The lamp explodes)

And scattered, hurls to flight a dozensquawking gulls

Into the void Into the stillness, squealingA gutted rat dissolves into the shadowsOf the airless soilDying a tanners death in a lepers autumn

Scrambles breathbare cross the alleyHesitatesAnd is swallowed by Diagos tavern, dead.

II

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Three figures slouch on slouching stoolsBeneath a neon-tinted haze that huddles

Sluggishly into the reachesOf its entrapment

(Time to time the barroom droolsIts mucous fumes into the starless alley)But smoke escapes through chimneys

men flee through doorsThree figures slouch Three gutted foolsIn Diagos doorless tavern, snared

Diago tips a flask

Of blood-red wine

Time cannot wear the shadows of the dyingA wishful glance that warms the deadenedfaceA vision of oneself approaching silence

Downward, down upon a knotted ropeBeneath the stillness, into voidWithin the stillness is the voidTime cannot wear the shadows of thegarden

He pours a drinkInto McGintys mug

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The wharf is stale to-nightThe fallen tide escapes beneath a fuelingbargeThat scrapes its lazy belly on the harborbottomBeneath the seiner fleet, shrimper hulls to

sculling shadesLost, lunging, grounded as the ocean wadesin silence(And draws the scant eternity to nestbeneath its wing)

Howls unsounded like an insane king

bound in shadowsMcGinty tastes the wine and

speaks

The Sleeping Seadog lingers in the stillnessTears its haunches on the silenceRips its carcass on a starSlips malignant through the windsnocturnal fingersInto half-existent color Into stalefluorescence(Diagos neon goat)Creating midnights hollow throat within a

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whisper

And where is Atropos? Where couldshe be?

And where the darkness flickers from amuzzledchandelier

Diago slides his paunch along the bar railWhere the darkness stirs, uniting void withsubstanceSlides a grin along the hazeStrides into aRiddleCaught

Diago keeps your spirits upMeasures gin with a two-jig cup

Between a cobweb and a candle, caught

Between an eyelid of the final figure,caughtAmong the dying and the dead, illusionstrays

McGinty slouchesNudging neon with an empty shoulder

Budging darkness from an empty shoulderHalf-dropped, droopingIn the pallor of a crouching moon

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McGinty slouchesRaps his mug with Diagos snare

With dust that rattles rattlesIn the strangers eye andClink

ClinkClink

Peels pack silenceDrinks fer 's chums withuhfistfulla

grogLayer by layer

Hes a nick-nack paddy-wackin good

ol dog!

And where is Atropos? Where couldshe be?

(Time cannot wear the shadows of the

dying)

Time cannot wear the shadows of the dead.

III

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Br-r-r-- just, just then, did you hear thethunder?

It cant be raining, not tonightDid you hear the thunder?Lets go out and seeperhaps its rain

but no, noNothing more than fallen angels, mumblingNothing more than echoes in a void(And yet, perhaps I do have a certain fear

of thunder)There! Your eye turns up! Turns up again!It could be youre afraid yourselfOf wind that whirls, whirls and lashes out atsilenceWailing like a crippled leopard through thestreets at dusk

Or else, a fearOf frozen rain inAugust? December slushOn autumn leaves? Hailstones?Gravestones? Storms that chill the soul

Ah, yesyesI know your brand of terror, friend. I knowit wellYou carry deathDeath that rolls its weight against theweight of TimeDeath in every gale that rises, begs for life

And fails to diethen falling breathless to a fitful slumberDeath in silence when the clamor fades

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And when it fades, silent wind shakes

granite, walls, rivers

Of the city cower, minds cower withoutreason, tombs blaze

still nothing

Blazing bones raise nothing

still nothingnothing stillWithout reasonWithout hope of reasonWithout hope ofHopeNothing more than death

silent deathsilent grave

And autumn mourns the fallStill wind whispers, shakes illusion with asneer

And summer is dead and summer isWith a cold, deliberate sneer

(and you fear it all)

Still, you are no doubt a thoughtful fellahDo you have the time?Sullen, yet reflective, I suppose

the clock has struck it must beafter twelveTwelve? After twelve? Lets go out

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and...go out andIs there ever rain?

After thunder, is there ever rain?

Often when the boats steer into bightDrop their sheets, crop their bleating

hornsAngle through the jetty, rumbling,

rumblingThen it all comes backMumbling words and blood words and

bloodAnd summer is dead is with the shark

thatBreaches, guards the ocean as a lion

lordsHis turf, snarls in silence when the surf

Is falling withEach rudder-beaten wake

And I have seenThe swelling sailsTuna trails thatDance into the strikers eyeDance beyond decaying remnantsFishgut spear, gutted calves, raveledgullets

Dying as the noon wing whispersNothing

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And Ive heard the roarThe bilge pump choking

Heard the toll bell striking with each breathAnd I have seen the sea refuse to dieAnd summer is dead andThe flame that quivered once is dead andShadows crown the rabid wolf, devourslight

And light is dead And hope is deadthrough words in blood and laughter,

wailing

Each afternoon at four oclockI watch the fueling barges as they

Raise their circling banners to thewind

Drift beyond the signal house,beyond the Skull

And disappear like spirits throughthe mist

And, Ive waited with a little patienceAnd I have waited with a little patience

Twelve oclockThe lamp has fled

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(A single chime consoles eternity)

HOWLHowl

howl

A single rhyme unsouls the dead.

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A DRY SONATA

I

DryThe hour is dryThis rude soilInconsummate airLip and lungDug and dungRivers mouth and

Lepers tongueAll locked in TimesInsipid bentAll dry

A word through youA voice through me

The damp hour of ourDamp youthSpent

Dat hooded man, he chasin us

What once was knowledge

Becomes our visionWhat once was visionBecomes our hope.

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THE BARDO THODOL

I

Life is an echo and we are the screamLife is an echo and we are screamingBlind attraction to unheard repulsionScreamingAs the funeral door is roused and born dead

Deaf and dumb and blindWe are the scream

Where did we go wrong?

Again, the dancing light evades lightClear light not clearly light but that

Which draws the blinded owl to blindedflightStill light of sensesPlucked and gouged and snuffedStill light of darkest night ofDarkest void ofDarkest

plightTrappedAnd seized into a monks mad eye

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And from the dancing spawns lucidity

(Seeded with a thorn when recognized)And through illusion springs lucidityOpen the mouth and open two eyesOpen the mouth and open two eyes

Life is an echo and we are the scream

II

Where did we go wrong?

Again, in order that we may resign

Face our ancient guise to face withLiberationReach beyond the sunken womb of Sun andMoon and FireHere and now, in order that we mayrelinquish lightWe must embellish darkness

When the mastiff pack has conjured upour trailsBehind us at our back Samsara wails

digguh dum

Resign

(Again, in order that we may resign)To heaven, as we mount the throbbingscales

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And intertwine the jackal and the cowdigguh digguh dum

Forever homeward here and now

And we have eyesLeering eyes that see the worldAs God has never seenOur senses arePrecisely tuned and geared and stirred

Until our path is ruled absurdAnd then, my love, might you exchangeA torso for a limb?As the duck honks thriceThe moon throws riceAnd the bearded woman raises voice

remember Him! remember Him!

Turning from that horror-kindled flameLife is an echo and we are screaming

As light respondsOur voices snag the windAnd we exist among the brutes

And we prevail among the muted brutesBurning as the axle burns

Just as all the fools before usWe shall eat the eye of Horace

digguh digguh deedle daidle dum

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III

Rewoven in a hollow skullThe Raven picked our bones, a fortnightdead

Illusion plants its hoof into the sand

Dismembered as it lashed a squallThe shoreline wails its blissful callShall make the pocky corses crawl

And we prevail among the brutes

And we the scream

Heap of formHeap of fleshHeap of impurities

Turning from the cradle to the tomb

Open the mouth and open two eyesOpen the mouth and open two eyes

Life is an echo and we are thewomb

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And this is so

(Through wind and hailand dry grass, screaming)

And this is rightly so

A DRY SONATA

II

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The mantis asks for nothingHidden word or psychic voiceSalvation, revelationDeliverance from the karmic tiesA place to chantA place to defecateNothing

With antennae erectInfant arms that grope above her lone torsoAged and stoopedShe shuffles into an unassuming dusk

Busy old night

Half-steps echo on the silent plain

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MAYAYANA RYAN

Droolin mustard down is chin(The victim of a merciless stroke)In nomine patris et fiddle-ay-doo---The Bishop, repairing his eyebrows with

glueFixes is collar, nixes is girthOur primary fear is the fear of ourworth

(Inspectin Hildys after-birth)

O! Tell em (as they titter)

That idly ad er litterThat the altruistic vultureAte the hedonistic doeAnd tell em: O ladle-ai, ladle-ai-O!

Reclinin in le grand boudoir

She gleams and gleams like a chandelierWhatever is proper shall thrive, says theQueen(But curled in her psyche are matters,obscene!)She fastens er eyelashes, tugs at er dressShould I be forthrightor leave her to

guess(Clearing er gullet with, ah, suchfinesse!)

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O! Tell em (as yer hackin)

That it aint the Swan thats quackinThat the Knight as shed is armorAnds been eyein' yer trousseauAnd tell em: O ladle-ai, ladle-ai-O!

Undaunted as he claims, a certainFear of maggots tween the toesThe King recapitulates matters of ageIf life were unblemished and fecesperfumed

Then Ryan would be quite impeccablygroomedWith a rose in is collar, a flame in is eyeHe chants, Nam myoho renge kyo!(With his cobra and lotus appearinjustso)In nomine patris et fiddle-ay-dough

He tells em: O ladle-ai, ladle-ai-O!

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ALL HALLOWS EVE

The silence lasted; nothinghappened.

In that pause, expectancyfaded.Presently then, the Shape

went outAnd we were drawn,

steadilyEverlastinglyInward and down

Through the bottomlesscircles

of the Void.

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Charles

Williams

Here there is no motion, no hopeThere are neither acts of despairNor Acts that result in faith of SeparationThere is no knowledge more than

knowledge knownAlready known, already buried, construedBetween broken words and whispersHere and there in the outskirts of the CityThere is only gossip, useless mute gossip

And the backwards Word

Wait!This is not theWay to say it; NotThe precise way inWhich Id dare to say it!

Perhaps Id merely say thatThese are mere streets of a mere city

That turn and turn merely for the sake ofturningThat guide this stale wind, stale word, downand downRebounding down the Hill of VoicesThrough the streets that mutter

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The streets that cross themselvesThrice

With garlic and a candleAnd watch this shadow click its clovenheels

Ive had enough, dear one, had enough

And what if this should be a dream?

If the twilight and the grey moonThe gutted bar, the lonely rectoryThose distant voices that I cant decipherWhat if this is all a frail dream?Then, perhaps Ill awake by middayShaken, beaded in a cold sweatBeyond memory, without relief

(Drooling on your favorite linen)

He looks so gaunt and useless

dont you think?

No! I must design a propitious scene!A separate City, alive with city soundsJackhammers, noon whistles and whininghoundsAnd how it would beTo smell cigarette smoke and factory fumesThe faint, musty odor

Escaping from under a landlords sleevesAnd urine breaths of powder rooms

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Just then, perhaps Ill

Stroll down Interlaakan StreetDown into the Poets SquareAt lunch-time, when the deli is swarmedAnd then theyll shout their old ballyhoo:

He looks so cultured and so debonair!

Ill cock up my head (as the actors do)And edge back into the turning street

Round and down to the BridgewaterZoo

The porcupined cheetah, the ring-tailed

amoebaWill join the blind zebra and dumb cockatooThat paralysed force will take flight on thehorseAnd tonight well all danceTo the top of the Hill, the top of the Hill

(Dance hand in clawDance lung in gill)

And how would it be.

When the twilight hour of this grey seasonJoins that still still moment of momentousfire

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And when all that is already knownIs then unknown and then un-known,

ensnaredIn faded words and fading blood.

Then Ill prepare a masterful verseWith words in tongue and blood of sorceryIll pound this heel upon the pavement

One and Two and Three

And then, my love, then youll appear

With a jigger of brandy, a pinch of snuffAnd a whisper that tickles my innermost

ear:

O, Henri, I love you stillFor better or for worse;I shall never again leave youIf our days are resourcefulIf the times are rough

Ill never leave you, never again

The groundhog cocked his severed headand said,

Enough!

Here is where the shadows are

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Where those faceless shadows areHere, upon this crude and ancient crag

The indolent potters wheelHas ceased to turnNo motion, none is leftAmong these bleeding thornsHere, within this whisper, that sigh

No time or sense or meaning left

Look! Is that your head amidst the smoke?Your lips among disconsolate boneThe girl in the orchardIs covered with mold

And I, who wear neither youth nor a cloak

Have lost all sensation(and have a fierce cold)

Shall I return as a psychicOr as a baboon?Perhaps as a leper who

Howls at the moonAnd the fools will applaudAnd the dwarfWill wear her eyelids rolled

These words have lost all sense

This voice is growing old

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And here, among these tired streetsWithin these uninspired streets

Weve heard and heardThat savage Word before(The ancient chant that bloomsWithin a thoughtless skull)At some moment, heard beforeBetween the dream of passing

And the dream that thrivesOn the moments past

The hooded saint then took his leave

And the scream inside the silenceShakes the hollows of the eve

The City drawsIts final dumb breathAnd waits surrender

CANCER WARD

Let them write aboveHere lies no oneThen afterwardLet the World take its

course

PeerGynt

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Nothing left

Back is stooped, numbedBy knowledge

Limbs that onceRebuffed the leopardFail to thwartThe aged centipede

Organs that digestedPumped, excreted, throbbedHold this arid plain inShriveled atrophy

Dust that once was motionDust that once was time

Nothing left

The smiling wolvesHave robbed my jawRobbed that toothlessRuthless jaw

O spare me

Sight of dry bonesSmell of proud fleshTaste ofBull dung

The starving winds havePlucked

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This wretched eye

I, who once was tall as youI, who once had eyes like youCreep in foul fear ofFoul fear

Dust to dustFoulness to foulness

O spare me spareMe the

dung, dust, bone and entrails

Yelping

THE SCATTERED ASHES

I

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El Dia de los Muertos

Know, my name is lostMy face is gone, the night has shut me outUpon the farther shore, near better streamsThe faithful gather where the fire redeemsYet here, my dreams are daggers as I drift

aboutIve seen my image stagger from the jawsof fearThen watched it vanish down confusionssnoutStill, the wind reveals no signs to questionThe thunder wears no wounds to doubt

My eyes are beggars eyes

Three days Ive stood where waters breakIve watched this journey sink in time, the

climb these tides delayThe light that leads the way as it restoresIve risen hand by hand upon the shadow of

a WordThen spilled my faith unheard between twoshoresDeparted on a groundless pathToo numb to know the horror of its wakeThree days Ive searched this channel,searched and prayed

Ive seen my heart laid open, edging baredinto the darkThen dared to mark the course this soul

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should take

But now, my head is filled with poisonThey have tied me to a stake

And through these quarters, worn by thirstand drought

Through breach and blast, the night thatfouls the

Ive left my conscience torn and scarred,my hope stretched inside out

And heard the fatal bell that cries eachpromise Ive undone

The silence that this howl denies, the

seasons Ive outrunThe bleeding Captain, fallen blind,perceives the scene

And weaves a tale of distant lands, ofbattles lost and wonYet, through this vacant plea, so frail and

hardened

Ive crossed the final strait where judgmentstandsAnd watched my courage flee throughempty handsMy spirit neither damned nor pardoned

Tomorrow, when this tale is toldIll drift between two lives, so rudely led

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As my last response is left for dead, myfinal shred of wonder

Between the dream of passingAnd the dream that passes into dreadIll have no dreams to fill this head, nomemories to plunderAfter fools destroy what fools defendAfter each beginning haunts the promisedend

Tomorrow, when this pace shall fallWhen friend is foe and foe is friendIll seek the grace that made me crawl, thetide that drags me underAnd though this maze of screams andechoes, through it allIll find a separate silence to attend,

another skin the shedAnd go to bed at noon, in spite of

thunder

Knock. knock. knock.

II

Lachesis

A cold coming we had of it

The beacon crept unseen above theragged coast,Spread its image upon the senseless

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twilight, and was goneDriven back beyond the flicker of another

passage, against a blind seaWe hauled our wind to weather the pointAt the first terror of the silence

unredeemed,

scudding away on a larboard tack

We fled between the fury of the dreamfulfilledAnd the dull retreat of the last sensation

The voices of the past we fought, thethoughtless skull of restoration

Whispers of a tide, blown cruel andblack

A dark voyage we made of itDarker than the womb was darkOn such a night that deepens as it robs

each breathWe, the passing, who dash our mark upon

this drifting wreckage

Led all this way to shuffle at the edge ofdoomLed all this way for birth and deathWe prayed for knowledgeAnd the darkness left our eyes too blind to

questionWe sought the silence

And the thunder wove its voice into ourdoubt

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I stumbled when I sawAfter the pain unravels what the woundsreveal

After this path, reduced to darkness, seeksthe Word unheard beforeI trembled when I faced this shore, the face

behind this stareAfter my heart has traced the moment

when the moments ceasethe peace that

wretches feelThe taste of hope on unsubstantial airAgain, I trembled as the night was lost tosilence

the dark in itsdisguiseI searched to find the faith these dreams

refuseAfter a life undone by whispers from ashifting mind, as many dreams

as I hand dreams toloseAs many oaths as I had lies

Against these seas, I crossed between theechoes of a fitful sight

the fear these

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winds exposeUpon this plea, I shuddered when each year

has tossed its courseA most poor man, made tame by

fortunes blows

After all the remnants of an empty nighta life too vague to trace its

source

too faint to stir the path ofits demiseCondemned to pace unknown between the

shadow and the light

I had no way and therefore had no eyes

And through this night of skull and spirit,through this stare

Between the heart that sheds its lastresistance

And the mind that wriggles from the jaws offateThrough all the fragments of an end tooblinded to begin

the will to rise, the senselesscalculatingThe prayer that spreads its faith too thin

the cries that murder what theeyes create

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Through words in blood and darkness,waiting

Waiting as the world will wait

A SHELLED PEASCOD

For every vibrationthere is an opposite vibrationFor every corpse there is a twisted rose

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For each fond breeze, a reckless squallDraws the blind sailor homeward

Ah, homeward to his tackle, net and nooseThe leopard in the garden laughs, licks hiswounds

We sow our shade

Couched between dry birth

And arid resurrectionOur fear is not of ragged bonesOf purging winds that lureThe night hawk from its lairWinds that spread their ancient wings andCackle smilinglyThe scarecrow dropped his liver, bowels

and brainOurs is fear in an eyeful of rust

And this is soIce to freeze the carcass

And this is rightly soIce to freeze the spine

Should we reconsiderSpirit dust?Skulls that glow?The fortune teller and her leaves?Mantras, chakras, karma, masters of zen

Gotama has thrown in his sanctified towel

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We sow our shade

Again, our only hopeIs in our hopelessnessIn the darkest fleeting moment,undiscernedIn that pursuit which is our apathyIn that knowledge which is lunacyBeyond these cold, expectant eyes

Beyond approachWe must prepare our feetTo crush the brambles and the briarInto a still silent echoInto the voidBeyond the psychic and the fool

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THE SECOND KINGDOM

I

The dogs are silencedThe fit has shook its courseThe howl is yelped

Beneath the burden of a crushing stoneWe dragged the carcass bleeding bleeding

From the wreckageWe who knew nothing more than nothingknownWe who heard the Word and chose our ownProud heart to proud boneBurningFrom the wreckage

Left to our own devicesTen years left to our own designTo mount each crisis(We who were so quick, so quick to riseTo a life of rank affairs and blank occasions)It seems a wonder that we made this shore

The lot of us, eachLashed to the same crude squallEven in our dreams we were divided

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Ten yearsAt our knees without the sense to crawl

The air went dead. The valve slackened.I saw it coming at breakfast, from out onthe veranda

That sound, that awful sound from his chest

The doctor told me what I should do, butI couldnt think. Honestly. I just couldntthink.Three tanks a week at the end. Hed fill hiscup

So quickly. Now look, he told meGive Father Nino the list. Its all here,signed.I left the dates blank. Everythings inorder, soYou have nothing to worry about

I rode with him in the ambulance. Conradand Sons.You know, the ones with the waterfall.He was such a meticulous man.I worry about you, Nella, he said, Youneed toDo something with your mind. Somethingto letGo of all this. Something to let goOf me. The garden needs work. Thank

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GodYou have your program

O, little fish, dont cry, dont cryO, little fish, dont cry, dont cry

II

The silence bore usThe silence ravaged us

Beginning with our journeys endAt the crossroads of rose and brambleThe juncture of wisdom and faith

On that solemn ledge between birth anddeath-of-selfWhere promise meets redemption

And the echo meets the voiceThe voice that bore us

The voice that, on a whisper, stilled thescream

Stilled our beating mindsFrom wind and flame and whirlpool

On a dark, dark nightAt the gate dividing sense and spirit

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In the womb of joy, the belly of silenceWe, the living, who wear the cloak of lives

confessedWe, the dreaming, who strive to put ourdreams to restScramble breathbare up this faceless cliffOur knowledge spent, our houses laid toruinBurned by thirst and fire

Beginning with our journeys end

The promise bore us

The waiting ravaged us

Upon the timbre of the wheelThe weary craftsman tunes his fateUndaunted as the winds concealThe distant thunder of the gate

Throughout the night, he weeps and singsBeyond the ancient call to fleeUntil the darker darkness bringsThe hollow throat of memory

And through that silence turns the stairAnd from that darkness paths descend

The weary craftsman prays for prayer

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Beginning with his journeys end

III

The voice went dead. Our faith slackened.

Not for the duration of this dark nightBut for one moment, one chord in time

The point between surrender and denialWhere the rhapsody loses pitch, fallsOut of tuneDescends into the dissonant strain of a lifeundone

Spreading words in blood, rumors ofmortalityThe rattle rattle of bone against boneOne chord in time thatTurns saint into sinnerTurns father against son and brother intoexile

Turns us all to fools and madmenFor one chord in timeOne moment, unattended

On a dark, dark nightNight of disguisesAt the point where moving forward is

fruitlessAnd turning back, unthinkableAt the last shudder of our last resort

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We, the dying, who rally in the face of fearThen watch our nerve sink downward, down

in frightAs Truth shall fall on ears that hear

We see our courage stiffen, cold and white

Without the seed of faith to trust this night

Battered by darkness, knee deep in afading dreamAt the last measure of our lost hopeThe last movement, the final stretch of rope

Our hunger starved, our vision robbed ofsightAt the end of our beginningDwells the Light

The dogs are silencedThe fit has shook its courseThe howl is yelped

Though the seas threaten, they are mercifulThe tides that swell, the winds that crack

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their cheeksThe night that pounds the bark ashore, the

Word that speaksWithin a roar, within a stalking whisper,seeksThe face that loses face to seek, thewounded voiceOf decades lost, the choice that Birth andDeath exhaust

Our laughter as it laughed beforeThe child that waits behind the door

Though the fire consumes us, the flamesrestoreAt the first turning of the first dayUnder the limbs of thirst and reclamation

We, the waking, who climb together towardthe sacred banksOur path laid bare, our prayer a prayer ofthanks

To the breath that moved the current, thehand that drove the oarThe Grace that brought us to this shore

Our lives renewed as we ascendBeginning with our journeys end

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Lyrics

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GREENWICH VILLAGE, 1969

The neon 'Bar and Grill' can wink socautiouslyLike a hooker slinking toward her man inblue

His name is incidental like the color of hiseyesAs darkness falls, they disappear from view

The subway serenades the tired boulevardGraffiti stammers out its vengeful rhymeCold faces cling to storefronts, looking old

and battle scarredIn Greenwich Village, 1969

The widows rosary consoles eternityNovenas for her man who's lost to warShe shakes her soul to Heaven at the costof all she knows

Then blows one final kiss and shuts thedoor

The alleys are an anchor for thetroubadoursThose reckless harmonies and ragged linesThe silence is a Pharisee, still looking for a

signIn Greenwich Village, 1969

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The poet in the temple howls his hollowplea

The rebel drops his hammer by the tracksAnd the king retreats in silence to hiswhiskey-tainted graveAs the children carve a legend named SaintJack

And through it all, in shuttered rooms

The blind console the blindIn Greenwich Village, 1969

THE SECRET

Night falls hard in memories, the livingstand their groundSweet Arthur's mask is confidence, histerror never makes a soundA psyche cool. well organized, emotions

neatly filedThe faintest sound of thunder makes himtremble like a child

Sometimes his engines hum and purr,sometimes his plates will shift"So flexible", his mother nods, "That boy's

got such a gift"His destiny pinned to his shirt, his sanity incode

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By day his shadow follows him, at night hisdreams explode

And he's choking on his secretAnd his secret burns a holeIt can burn through all his facesIt can burn right through his soulHush the thought that they might guess itHush the dream from which he drank

Hush the courage to confess itLet another slate go blank

"Be careful", said the mirror, "thoughts arekillers once they flee.

"If you want to keep your secret, keep itunder lock and key"

A million worlds converging, not a singlewill surviveSweet Arthur has a secret and it's eatinghim alive

Watch him catalog his conscience, all inpredetermined stacks

Watch him resurrect the secret, watch him

cover all its tracksWatch the mirror steal his courage if thesecret won't behave

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One half of him its master, one half of himits slave

And he's pinned beneath his secretAnd his secret steals him blindIt will steal away his sensesIt will steal away his mind

Stop the thought that they might findhim

Stop the dream from which he drankStop the ghost who walks behind himLet another slate go blank

The jumper drew an audience, like zombiesin a spellThey couldn't say what caused the fall, how

many floors he fellA priest took off his overcoat and asked theman his name

He heard his last confession as theparamedics came

"Move closer", begged the victim, "I havesomething more to say..."

His voice trailed off in silence, his lastbreath was sucked away

The paramedics covered up the life theycouldn't saveOne man who had a secret took his secret

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to the grave

And he's buried with his secretAnd his secret burns a holeIt will burn through all his facesIt will burn right through his soulKill the thought that they might find himKill the dream from which he drank

Kill the ghost who walks behind himLet the final slate go blank

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SHADOWLAND

The world would just as soon forgetWe watched the wreckage drift ashoreTen years reduced to one regretThe unclaimed baggage of a war

Don't ask us how our names were lostA nation did its sleight-of-handWe never saw the line we crossedThat took us into Shadowland

An open wound that never healsA bone that never seems to set

A mind that thinks but never feelsThe face inside we've never metDon't sleep too much, your dreams explodeEach passing glimpse will burn its brandReality's the narrow roadSink deeper into Shadowland

And they tell us time and time againThat they only want a few good menThen they lead us to the lion's denMake a speech and wash their handsAnd we tremble through the first attackAnd we see our last resistance crackAnd the few good men that make it back

Build their future on the sandIn Shadowland

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Behind a nation's blind saluteBehind "My country 'tis of thee"

Behind the pain that won't computeThe powder keg of memory

A father's call to take a standThe last breath of the boy next door

Your life is death in ShadowlandThe legacy of war

And they tell us time and time againThat they only want a few good menThen they lead us to the lion's den

Make a speech and wash their handsAnd our leader strikes a fistic poseAs we weep as each statistic growsAnd son will reap what father sowsAs we march through each commandFrom the past we can't withstandIt's the life we never planned

In Shadowland

This is the original version of the lyric

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Shadowland, written in the spring of 1987. Afew months later, Graham Nash and Joe Vitale

edited my words and added music, creating asong that the following year was included onthe long-awaited reunion album AmericanDream (which was Crosby, Stills, and Nashsfirst LP with Neil Young since their landmarkalbum Dj vu was released in1970).American Dream sold more than amillion units and was certified Platinum in

1989.

THE DARK END OF THE DAWN

I ask the station masterFor a one-way ticket homeTook getting here to make it clearHow far a soul can roam

He says, "You want RedemptionBut that train's not on this track"

I buy a ticket anywayAnd sit way in the back

When I wake up, I think I'm thereI see the night has goneBut in my mind all that I findIs the dark end of the dawn

On the platform, there's an artistWith an easel on his knees

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It could be MichelangeloOr Mephistopheles

He says he's here to save meHe's a man of great renownHey, it don't make no differenceIn my mind I gun him down

It's more or less a game of chess

And here I am, the pawnThis is the street where killers meetIn the dark end of the dawn

There's a bright light in the men's roomThere's a nun in the next stall

With a message that salvationIs a feast for one and all

She says, "Son, you're a sinner"Then she cuts my angels loose

God wants to hear IsaiahBut I'm quoting Dr. Seuss

I say, "Hey, ma'am, green eggs and hamWould be fine with Luke or John"Looks like there'll be no feast for meIn the dark end of the dawn

Up the street, I find a doctorWho looks like Mr. Hyde

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He's a part-time chiropractorAnd a swami on the side

The doctor tells me, "Lie right downAnd I'll adjust your spine"Then the swami says, "Don't worry, sonIn your next life you'll be fine"

Every tale I tell's a map through Hell

That some lunatic has drawnThen I see the lunatic is meIn the dark end of the dawn

I want someone to save meMy faith is wearing thinI make my way down into town

For a mug of medicine

I tell the faceless barmaidEvery cell inside me hurtsA man walks up, hands me his card

It says his name is Kurtz

I'm such a dope, I think there's hopeTill I see the man's a conWords can deceive if you believeIn the dark end of the dawn

A voice leads me to the crossroadsOf deliverance and despair

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I can hear the angels singingAt that moment, I don't care

It's too late for signs and wondersIt's too late to shed a tearI just want to find somebodyWho can get me out of here

Now I understand the Devil's plan

The conclusion is foregoneIf he has his way, I'm here to stayIn the dark end of the dawn

In the churchyard is a ladyShe wears a pauper's clothesAs I say, "It's nice to meet you"

At her feet I lay a rose

She stands there like a statueAs the rose blooms from a budWhile I'm looking up into her eyesShe's crying tears of blood

In a helpless heap, I fall asleepRight on that churchyard lawnThen in my dream, I hear Satan screamFrom the dark end of the dawn

There's a pathway to a carnival

I'm ready for a rideWith a carousel of refugeesAll from the darker side

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There's a preacher on an ostrich

Near the pig and crocodileThere's a hangman riding on a lambLooks like Kafka with a smile

As I make three wishes all my fishesSwim upstream to spawn

They've left for dead my loaves of breadIn the dark end of the dawn

I'm still praying for a miracleAs my desperate play beginsJehovah's the director

All the actors are my sins

A performance of a lifetimeStill I plead for it to stopI stand for my ovationAs the curtain finally drops

Inside my mind my thoughts unwindLike in "Flowers For Algernon"With no way to find what's left behindIn the dark end of the dawn

Then a girl comes up to greet meLike it was forever planned

Her eyes stretch to eternityA rose is in her hand

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She tells me she's a messengerThat's why our paths have crossed

She says for every soul that's savedA thousand still are lost

She tells me that my choice is clearTo go back or else move onShe says a lady sent her hereFrom the dark end of the dawn

Some guests come down to join usAt the table for a feastWhen St. Peter toasts SalvationI'm impressed, to say the least

I can hear the angels singing

As our voices intertwineThen I scribble my John HancockRight there on the dotted line

My doubts all disappear so fastOnce the final draft is drawn

Then the girl hands me a lifetime passTo the dark end of the dawn

The moment I awakenThere's a message in my heartThe train that I had takenWas the right train from the start

Now I recognize each soul who's lost

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On these dark and desolate streetsI've walked in their same footsteps

All the liars, fools and cheats

They've heard about RedemptionBut their pain goes on and onIt's true that we're all traveling throughThe dark end of the dawn

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BLINDNESS

Leader paints a pretty pictureWash his hands of all the grimeBrushstrokes on a field of darkness

Let the medal fit the crimeRide so tall behind the saddleMissile fall and Wall Street climbLegislate the smell of battleFeed us all a nursery rhyme

The truth always hurts, but it sets us free

The lame shall talk and the deaf shall see

BlindnessThey making sure that we be numbBlindnessWhat bad for many good for someBlindness

We marching to a deadly drumBlindnessIt blow us all to kingdom come

Leader draw his own conclusionFreedom for a simple feeSea of red on thirsty canvas

Paint-by-number destinySpeech revive what bomb demolishT. V. Q. from A to Z

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Politics of spit and polishDollar teach us all to see

The brain is gone, but the heads still aliveThe meek will rule and the dead will thrive

BlindnessThey making sure that we be numbBlindness

What bad for many good for someBlindnessWe marching to a deadly drumBlindnessIt blow us all to kingdom come

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CHILDHOOD'S END

The pain flashed like a headlineThrown upon the magic screenA thousand days, a single flame

One instant in between

A camera's prayer of silenceFrozen church to grassy knollOne single act of violenceRobbed a country of its soul

We tuned in as the colors droppedThe day when all the laughter stopped

They change the guardThe decades bendA dream dies hard at childhood's endThe children weep

Old men pretendThe tide runs deep at childhood's end

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The future made its promiseBut our youth was double-crossed

A war of fear, a failed FrontierOne dream forever lost

A destiny abandonedAnd an innocence betrayedA piece of every one of usDied in that motorcade

A thousand days, ten thousand nightsWe all were in the killer's sights

They change the guard

The decades bendA dream dies hard at childhood's endThe children weepOld men pretendThe tide runs deep at childhood's end

We search to find a symbol

That the ages can't diluteA lifeless oath, a ruined dressOne tiny son's salute

Forgetful minds rememberThough the pictures peel and crackThe day our childhood went away

And never quite came back

A nation's fate in one blind shot

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It closed the gates of Camelot

They change the guardThe decades bendA dream dies hard at childhood's endOur children weepOld men pretendThe tide runs deep at childhood's end

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MIRAGE

Let my mind caress one momentTears hold on with all their mightI'm the shadow on your curtainDisappearing through the night

Let me trust the heart of darknessAngels in a den of thievesLet me steal an explanationNeither one of us believes

It's a riddle, it's realityIt's wearing camouflage

How certain is the tide of loveHow deep is the mirageA postcard from the undertowA scribbled 'bon voyage'The shadow on the curtain knowsWhen love is a mirage

A delusion to decipherAn emotion to disownDraw our courage from confusionDraw our water from a stoneIt's a fly-by-night oasisDesperation with a twistYou're the feeling never offered

I'm the feeling never missed

It's a riddle, it's reality

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It's wearing camouflageHow certain is the tide of love

How deep is the mirageA postcard from the undertow

A scribbled 'bon voyage'The shadow on the curtain knowsWhen love is a mirage

Like a soul's first taste of freedomIn a wilderness of snaresTo create a dream is HeavenHell is peeling back the layersIt's a haunted panoramaDaybreak hanging by a thread

You're the question left unansweredI'm the answer left unsaid

It's a riddle, it's realityIt's wearing camouflageHow certain is the tide of love

How deep is the mirageA postcard from the undertowA scribbled 'bon voyage'The shadow on the curtain knows

When love is a mirage

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HELL IS FULL OF ANGELS

We're driving from the courthouse, Virgil'ssitting by my side

My pickup dies a slow death down where1st and Hill collide

We were there for jury duty till the judgesaid we could goNow Fate has dropped us in the seventhcircle of Skid Row

We search for a mechanic, but there isn'tone in sight

Rasputin's on the corner asking Virgil for alightJust then somebody's daughter says, "Hey

you guys want a date?"Our path starts spiraling downward on a

road that had been straight

There's a voice that echoes through myheadI can hear it clear as dayI recall how Mama always used to sayThat Hell is full of angelsWho got lost along the way

Then we run into an Army vet--" I'm notdead yet!", he screams

He drags a trunk behind him, forty years of

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broken dreamsHe says his name is William, had a job

down by the docksHe calls his home his castle, but his castleis a box

There's a couple in the shadows, WhiskeyJoe and Princess Pam

The lady says to Virgil, "Sir, you don't know

who I amI'm from a line of royalty--Whiskey Joe, heain't my type"

Then she takes a toke of torment, she's aprisoner of the pipe

There's a voice that echoes through my

headI can hear it clear as dayI recall how Mama always used to sayThat Hell is full of angelsWho got lost along the way

A man slumps in the gutter who they call"the silent one"He doesn't know his name, but he can

make an engine runHe listens to our story, then he pleads inVirgil's ear

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"Mister, if I fix your engine, can you get meout of here?"

So many on this street are lost and hurtingto the coreFor every soul we meet, there seems to bea hundred moreSo many spirits breaking on this achingavenue

If our lives had made a different turn, itcould be me or you

There's a voice that echoes through myhead

I can hear it clear as dayI recall how Mama always used to say

That Hell is full of angelsWho got lost along the way

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THREE-LEGGED DOG

It's a legend with no starting placeNo point where it beganJust a riddle from an old man reminiscing

He says the wind passed it alongHis name's Disciple DanIt's the story of a dog with one leg missing

He says to me, "There comes a timeWhen everybody begsThey see the pie and want a bigger portion

On any street the day you meetA dog with just three legsYou'll trade in all your troubles for good for-tune"

You can find yourself a mojoYou can rub a magic frog

But there's nothin' quite as lucky as athree-legged dog

Get a rabbit's foot or horseshoeLight some candles on a log


Now, Uncle Mose got his guitarHe calls her Sweet JanineHe's played the blues since his young

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hands were ableOne night a dog with just three legs

Walked by in AbileneNext day they signed Mose to a record label





Ezekiel thought he'd lost his farmHis account was overdrawnCome late in April, all his crops werefreezin'He won't forget the day he metA dog with one leg gone'Cause his corn grew ten feet high that har-

vest season



Get a rabbit's foot or horseshoe

Light some candles on a logBut there's nothin' quite as lucky as athree-legged dog

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When hard times come into your life

Take you down a couple pegsDon't ever let your darkest night defeat youJust remember somewhere out thereIs a dog with just three legsWho someday might just hobble up andgreet you





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TESTAMENT

Its a prehistoric warningIts a dream too dark to holdIts the only bedtime storyThat can make the young grow old

Speculation clouds its endingHieroglyphics trace its startA boy cant chase a windmillIf a bomb blows it apart

Testament

Hollow voices tell us how the game iswon

TestamentToast the good life from the barrel of a

gunTestamentSearch for choices till theres no more to

inventThe childs mind thats left behindBecomes our testament

Got a message you should partyGot a message you will dieGot a message that youre nothing

Till youre in the public eye

Scramble for your fifteen minutes

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See how far your psyches bentBetween a thumbprint on the blotter

And a footprint in cement

TestamentHollow voices tell us how the game is

wonTestament

Toast the good life from the barrel of agun

Testament

Search for choices till theres no more toinvent

The childs mind thats left behind

Becomes our testament

Its an ancient incantationIts the smoke on distant skiesIts a message of survivalThat can cut through all the lies

Its the kingdom youll inheritIts the kingdom we were lentAnd every dream that falls betweenBecomes our testament

TestamentHollow voices tell us how the game is

wonTestamentToast the good life from the barrel of a

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gunTestament

Search for choices till theres no more toinvent

The childs mind thats left behindBecomes our testament

PLAYGROUND

When Im old and nearly deadAnd Im shackled as my smile dips

Through the words that you once said:That a man becomes a child as his mindslips awayWill my wisdom be a cage?(Ancient children in the sunsetPlaying old men on the stage)

Ill be thinking of you often, though I may

forget your nameWont you promise me a playground when Iget there just the same?

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As the fire of youth subsides

And Im crippled as my soul yearnsFor a challenge with the tideBut the water rushes to meAnd then it turns awayWill the season leave me cold?(Weakly propped against a bedpostSearching for young boys to scold)

Ill be happy as a merchant selling pencils ifIm lameWont you promise me a playground when I

get there just the same?

As my mind becomes confusedAnd Im broken as my dreams leap

Past the long hours I refusedTo believe my innocenceCould ever creep awayWont you leave me to my craft?(Carving canes and painting glassesAlways shutting out the draft)

Ill play checkers with my shadow, countingmemories by the game

Wont you promise me a playground when Iget there just the same?

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Portrait of the Artist

Charles Ryan currently lives in Los Angeles,

California.You can reach him at

[email protected]

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Borderlandswith Lyrics

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