1. |
Looking West
03:41
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|
The heat came in the summer of light
The fields were blighted and dry
Two ties came over at night
Asserted their rights and said die, die
Your garden was verdant with life
Just over the fence by & by
I watched as the edge of your dress
Worked its way up your thigh, thigh
You unlatched my door
And called out my name
Like I'd heard before
In the din of the rain
The Earth cracked and blew in the wind,
And covered the ground and the sky,
I felt the shape of your skin,
In the room where we'd hide, hide,
I pleaded, "We can make it across
I have a car we can ride
Your garden won't cover the loss
We are drowning in ties, ties"
You stared at the ground
And watched a dove go by
And then looked around
With a tear in your eye
We stepped off the sand
And into the tide
& reached out our hands
"Lord, we're alive"
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2. |
Whiskey Grove
04:55
|
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|
My name is Miguel Simone
A man who walked it alone
At least that's what it says on the stone under the sycamore
My mother was dead by the time i was born
In the black of my eyes the gypsy nurse warned
She could already see my path torn between the sun and the moon
So I walked it and i walked it straight
Until I'd passed through so many a gate
That not even the blame and the hate of my father could follow
So roll me in my last shallow bed
Use carpenter tacks in the lid
Waste not the silk on my head my lover has warn
See that no roses touch my grave
No prayers to a god i never forgave
No final wishes, save that you
Bury my body and me down by Whiskey Grove
I once knew the love of a wife
Sometimes the nectar, sometimes the knife
But it always seemed that my life was lived alongside of things
Three children born one hot July
She clutched the one that did not die
The heat and the light just passed by as i carried the other two
I carry them still
I've seen the place where the daylight was killed
And the blood of a blue moon lay spilled
Where hearts go quiet, memory stilled, and the rest is bestowed
It's a place where the cup passeth over for good
And even Jesus would've hid if he could
In that forsaken stretch of wood they call Whiskey Grove
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