1. |
Cigar Store Indian
04:14
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Standing there on the corner
Right there by the door
The carved and lonely wooden mourner
To those who shuffle th' dusty moccasin floor
He likem' good smoke
He likem' his fire-water
Manhattan for some beads; he's broke
And then quietly lead off to slaughter
His stoic frozen features
Like a mem'ry from a simpler time
Before the governmental preachers
Proselytized that with words and thoughts we commit crimes
If he could only speak
Oh, the stories he could tell
He'd hold the customers for a week
And we'd all see how far we fell
But he might say “Kemo Sabe
“Don't let it get him down
“Just bring wampum to casino Sunday
“It always fool who wears crown"
With the wisdom of the years
Will he fly far from the raptor?
Or stand in trash with eyes full of tears
Smoke the pipe of peace as they write to close his chapter
Ain't no more standing on the corner
There's now an ATM by the door
And the store is owned by a foreigner
Who's been displaced by the most recent war
We used to likem' good smoke
We used to likem' good fire-water
No shirt, no shoes, no service; no joke
Neighborhood kids used for cannon fodder
Wonder where's that Indian now?
I heard they hauled him away as insensitive
With no chance to even ask “How?”
Seems the price of freedom sure keeps on getting expensive
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2. |
Unwound
04:59
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Walking the street
When from the corner of my eye
In a flash I see two worlds meet
Yet ever still the sky
Pulling me toward
Vibrating on a line
Gently touching a node harmonics ring
I disappear to another time
Strung up and tightly wound
Resonates mysterious sounds
Trusting that my feet
Will carry me on without care
When a tear appears, I catch a glimpse
Of something that is not really there
Intriguing me onward
Underneath time so high
Moving to my left to make it right
Arcing across the sky
Balled up and newly found
Resonates mysterious sounds
(Middle 8)
Finding my way back
Unsure as to how or why
Realizing that I've never left
Ever still the sky
Tied to a hole in the ground
Resonates mysterious sounds
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3. |
Strung Along (Improv)
04:21
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4. |
Dead Horse
04:02
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When madness becomes the rule not exception
A ruler rules in vain
When people try to discern truth from deception
It serves only to slay the slain
A truth is never known until it is long gone
Just as you'll never move that which you're beating on
Change and hopes and dreams and desires
Can never be attained
Without first knowing how to escape the mire
While truth is so deftly feigned
Longing is never felt until love is long gone
And you'll never drive that which you're beating on
(Bridge)
So many words instead of the rod
When dealing with these high crimes
Love for the sake of love for the love of God
As we come to the fullness of time
The time is now upon us please don't get me wrong
How can you love that which you're beating on?
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Intervalus Bridgewater, Massachusetts
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