Friday, August 14, 2009

at one with the beach ball


like silence she stands, like laughter she falls
from her castle of sand, like a memory she calls
and the mockingbird grieves, cos he can't make her cry
but they'll soon start to believe, that the lady has died.

what it all goes to show, it aint my job to say
for who am i to know, why she's acting this way
once again turn away if you're sure that it's done
tell your prophets to pray, tell your bandits to run
take your islands of stone, they won't do you no harm
take your cross made of bones, take your fly paper arms
and when everything's placed, and your coffin of gold
throw a scarf round your face, cos the subway gets cold

pack up your sunflower smile, and your bandanna blues
take your worthless denials, they're all you got left to lose
take your tinkerbell lies, and your weary desires
take the tears in your eyes, take your cupful of fire
give your lover a call, if your legs start to fail
let them come break your fall, with a pitful of nails.

no need to glance back again, there aint nothing to see
just this drunken old man, and this woman and me
and you've made it quite plain, that we're just wasting time
and you say it seems strange, that i'm staying behind
don't you worry about me, i can make it alone
i got no place to be, and i aint far from home.

- "why she's acting this way" townes van zandt

1 comment:

  1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rover_(The_Prisoner)

    ReplyDelete