I will always live in the groove somewhere between the artist and the song. Whenever you want me, just pull out the recordings and maybe you will find me swimming in the waves of the mix. Lately, I've been doing some hard travelin'. I may be south of the border looking for bail in the Tijuana jail. Later, find me hanging around in some lonesome valley with Tom Dooley. Or I'm just as at home in Margaritaville or Montgomery singing the honky tonk blues.
If you dare to disturb the sounds of silence, find me somewhere in an answer that keeps blowin' in the wind with the promise of a change that's gonna come. I face the grim reality in old Dixie as people get ready to endure the last bitter crop of terrible, strange fruit. Or maybe I'll be watching the skyball of lightning at Los Gatos Canyon amid deportees and Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding: tragedy littering the skyways and lost highways.
Sometimes I seek shelter from a hard, hard rain as I stumble on the side of twelve misty mountains catching a glimpse of a lady in a long, black veil. Or maybe I'll be down some dark Appalachian hollow where the sun never shines talking with the man of constant sorrow, who just couldn't keep on the sunny side of life but still seeks an unbroken circle of friends in glory land. And I roam and ramble as I follow my footsteps and a voice all around me rings, "This land is your land."
Sometimes, I catch a ride on the mystery train to the crossroads to give some sympathy for the devil like a voodoo chile with hellhounds on his trail. Singing the roadhouse blues in country shacks or running from company bulls to share the hot mulligan with tramps and rum dums in the hobo jungles, you can find me there, the king of the road. Then, around the water tank and waiting on the midnight flyer, I'm just movin' on. I'm going where the sun keeps shining thru' the pouring rain, going where the weather suits my clothes.
Anytime you need me, take it to the limit to find your satisfaction. Whether you're in the mood for a rainy night in Georgia or sunshine on your shoulders, I'm residing here, so you can sing me back home at will. Just don't forget to turn out the lights in the end when the music is over. Please, Johnny, be good tonight and don't forget to wake up little Susie. There's American pie for breakfast in the soul kitchen of Alice's Restaurant. So, don't let the sun catch you crying. Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight.
If you're wondering how blue can you get, set your laser on the crossroads of lonely avenue and the boulevard of broken dreams in lonesome town. I'm usually there getting misty from all the wasted time and shedding a few lonely teardrops in Heartbreak Hotel on the poor side of town. In fact, sometimes I feel just like a whipping post when I fall for her angel eyes and end up being Cathy's clown. But, when the thrill is gone with the last kiss, I find one more thrill somewhere near Blueberry Hill, then begin slowly walking to New Orleans.
Just remember I love you when nothing is left but faded photographs, tickets torn in half, and other traces of love. Only the lonely know what you feel tonight in the darkness on the edge of town. But, silence is golden in the midnight hour, and you can feel my respect in the infinite power of love. Thus as, darkness stirs and awakens imagination, only you will answer my prayer as your memory gives me shelter to help me make it through the twilight time. Let the darker side give in as your warm and tender love helps me live the music of the night.
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove as you dance me to the end of love. As the rest of the world seems far away and small, we're slow dancing, swaying to the music. Pretty eyes and pirate smile, you're my ballerina, a tiny dancer in my hand. We skip a light fandango and turn cartwheels across the floor, and I want you to know I believe in your simple song. So, let us move until we drift away upon a cloud of sound on our magic carpet ride.
Sister, will you soothe my fevered brow and rock me on the water? Send me to the river where I can dive and cleanse my soul to find that dreams are lies that don't come true, or maybe something worse. Just watching the river run, we slip further and further from things we have done, leaving them one by one. I'm gonna lay my burden on the golden sand down by that riverside and study war no more. I've been born again...I'm a brand new man.
Or see me always on your mind. I'm there just standing in the shadows of love on the dark end of some street. That's where we always meet. Through the mirror of the mind, time after time you see reflections of you and me. Maybe I'm an imaginary lover, who always cares because we all need somebody to lean on. But was it just my imagination running away with me? It's so surprising how time slips away. And somewhere between the time you arrive and the time you go may lie a reason you were alive but you'll never know. And, meanwhile, you were still thinkin'.
But I'll be there playing my song for you within the layers of aluminum, acrylic and plastic -- just waiting for a friend. Right beside the bits and bumps of 0's and 1's on the three-mile trail. Always ready to get back on the road again, I'm your puppet sonic companion. Just me and the tumbling tumbleweeds.
I will always live in the groove somewhere between the artist and the song. Whenever you want me, just pull out the recordings and maybe you will find me swimming in the waves of the mix. Lately, I've been doing some hard travelin'. I may be south of the border looking for bail in the Tijuana jail. Later, find me hanging around in some lonesome valley with Tom Dooley. Or I'm just as at home in Margaritaville or Montgomery singing the honky tonk blues.
If you dare to disturb the sounds of silence, find me somewhere in an answer that keeps blowin' in the wind with the promise of a change that's gonna come. I face the grim reality in old Dixie as people get ready to endure the last bitter crop of terrible, strange fruit. Or maybe I'll be watching the skyball of lightning at Los Gatos Canyon amid deportees and Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding: tragedy littering the skyways and lost highways.
Sometimes I seek shelter from a hard, hard rain as I stumble on the side of twelve misty mountains catching a glimpse of a lady in a long, black veil. Or maybe I'll be down some dark Appalachian hollow where the sun never shines talking with the man of constant sorrow, who just couldn't keep on the sunny side of life but still seeks an unbroken circle of friends in glory land. And I roam and ramble as I follow my footsteps and a voice all around me rings, "This land is your land."
Sometimes, I catch a ride on the mystery train to the crossroads to give some sympathy for the devil like a voodoo chile with hellhounds on his trail. Singing the roadhouse blues in country shacks or running from company bulls to share the hot mulligan with tramps and rum dums in the hobo jungles, you can find me there, the king of the road. Then, around the water tank and waiting on the midnight flyer, I'm just movin' on. I'm going where the sun keeps shining thru' the pouring rain, going where the weather suits my clothes.
Anytime you need me, take it to the limit to find your satisfaction. Whether you're in the mood for a rainy night in Georgia or sunshine on your shoulders, I'm residing here, so you can sing me back home at will. Just don't forget to turn out the lights in the end when the music is over. Please, Johnny, be good tonight and don't forget to wake up little Susie. There's American pie for breakfast in the soul kitchen of Alice's Restaurant. So, don't let the sun catch you crying. Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight.
If you're wondering how blue can you get, set your laser on the crossroads of lonely avenue and the boulevard of broken dreams in lonesome town. I'm usually there getting misty from all the wasted time and shedding a few lonely teardrops in Heartbreak Hotel on the poor side of town. In fact, sometimes I feel just like a whipping post when I fall for her angel eyes and end up being Cathy's clown. But, when the thrill is gone with the last kiss, I find one more thrill somewhere near Blueberry Hill, then begin slowly walking to New Orleans.
Just remember I love you when nothing is left but faded photographs, tickets torn in half, and other traces of love. Only the lonely know what you feel tonight in the darkness on the edge of town. But, silence is golden in the midnight hour, and you can feel my respect in the infinite power of love. Thus as, darkness stirs and awakens imagination, only you will answer my prayer as your memory gives me shelter to help me make it through the twilight time. Let the darker side give in as your warm and tender love helps me live the music of the night.
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove as you dance me to the end of love. As the rest of the world seems far away and small, we're slow dancing, swaying to the music. Pretty eyes and pirate smile, you're my ballerina, a tiny dancer in my hand. We skip a light fandango and turn cartwheels across the floor, and I want you to know I believe in your simple song. So, let us move until we drift away upon a cloud of sound on our magic carpet ride.
Sister, will you soothe my fevered brow and rock me on the water? Send me to the river where I can dive and cleanse my soul to find that dreams are lies that don't come true, or maybe something worse. Just watching the river run, we slip further and further from things we have done, leaving them one by one. I'm gonna lay my burden on the golden sand down by that riverside and study war no more. I've been born again...I'm a brand new man.
Or see me always on your mind. I'm there just standing in the shadows of love on the dark end of some street. That's where we always meet. Through the mirror of the mind, time after time you see reflections of you and me. Maybe I'm an imaginary lover, who always cares because we all need somebody to lean on. But was it just my imagination running away with me? It's so surprising how time slips away. And somewhere between the time you arrive and the time you go may lie a reason you were alive but you'll never know. And, meanwhile, you were still thinkin'.
But I'll be there playing my song for you within the layers of aluminum, acrylic and plastic -- just waiting for a friend. Right beside the bits and bumps of 0's and 1's on the three-mile trail. Always ready to get back on the road again, I'm your puppet sonic companion. Just me and the tumbling tumbleweeds.
2 comments:
Good Stuff!
I didn't count the song titles for the piece, but there are quite a bunch. I thought it would be unique to use titles with a few lyrics to drift into some musical appreciation.
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