Who are we? We are our stories.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Lungs

Okay, you're right. I can not resist the urge. Just pardon me a fogey moment ;-) If you punch "Van Zandt" into Google you'll probably come up with Steven Van Zandt. Now I have nothing against Steven Van Zandt, but it's comparing a poet to an assistant song and dance man. And worst than that, damned few people have even heard of the dead poet.



Well, won't you lend your lungs to me?
Mine are collapsing
Plant my feet and bitterly breathe
Up the time that's passing.
Breath I'll take and breath I'll give
Pray the day ain't poison
Stand among the ones that live
In lonely indecision.

Fingers walk the darkness down
Mind is on the midnight
Gather up the gold you've found
You fool, it's only moonlight.
If you try to take it home
Your hands will turn to butter
You better leave this dream alone
Try to find another.

Salvation sat and crossed herself
Called the devil partner
Wisdom burned upon a shelf
Who'll kill the raging cancer
Seal the river at its mouth
Take the water prisoner
Fill the sky with screams and cries
Bathe in fiery answers

Jesus was an only son
And love his only concept
Strangers cry in foreign tongues
And dirty up the doorstep
And I for one, and you for two
Ai'nt got the time for outside
Just keep your injured looks to you
And we'll tell the world we tried

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

if you had a feature on this blog like on facebook, where someone could just click on a "like" button, that would be a way I coulda said that I really enjoyed this song without having to bother typing anything, ya know?

mw

Gunnar Berg said...

I suppose I could write a little applet and embed it in every post ... or not.