I had no voice anymore
I think I’ve screamed ’til I’m sore
I felt discarded and disregarded
I lay, a shell and a husk —
I could not take “me” from “us”
so I decided I felt divided
(Stay with me now, it’s quiet)
and I — I just want you — I want you to talk to me
for about fifty-two hours and twenty-three minutes
Have I a place in your play?
I’m never sure what to say
or what my role is, or what control is
I won’t reveal my inside
my heart is thin but it’s wide
and no one sold it; I might have told it…
(Stay with me now, it’s quiet)
and I — I just want you — I want you to play music to me
for about fifty-two hours and twenty-three minutes
(And I was talking to you, but I couldn’t hear you.)
I felt one moment of doubt
as if my inside were out —
my sleeve was wearing, my heart was tearing —
Then I stepped into the street
and I felt firm on my feet
and past all caring, and past despairing
(Stay with me now, it’s quiet)
and I — I just want you — I want you to wait for me
for about fifty-two years and twenty-three minutes
The line of life that holds me dreaming here;
The line of fate that keeps you out of my arms —
I see your eyes, and I imagine your touch.
I see my hands, and I imagine so much…
There is no world in which we exist.
There is no world in which “we” exists.
I am alive — I am still breathing here.
I want you now, despite impossible odds.
I want your kiss, and I imagine your eyes.
I see your lips, and I imagine your lies.
There is no world in which we exist.
There is no world in which “we” exists.
Keep with me.
You don’t know what I’ve become.
You don’t know what I have done.
Keep with me.
I’ll unroll my history,
see if you would still want me.
(I want you to want me. I want you to want me…)
The line of life — the arc of history
I am a flame that spirals out of control
Until the end I’ll be fuelled by desire.
I’ll be your friend, but I’ll imagine the fire.
There is no world in which we exist.
There is no world in which “we” exists.
Keep with me. (I want you to want me.)
How many times do I have to laugh before you hear me?
How many times must I walk away?
Oh… the beaches…
Oh… the beaches…
Towering dunes of sand above the cliffs in my mind:
nobody feels like I do.
Oh… the beaches…
Oh… the beaches…
Oh. It’s a long time ago,
already. It’s sort of fading.
How many times do you have to jump?
How many times before you fall?
Oh… put your hand in her hand…
Oh… put your hand in her hand…
The path that leads down to the sea
is covered over. [Spoken: No one walks there anymore.]
Oh… you’ll go alone…
Oh… you’ll go alone…
Don’t you understand?
You haven’t got a choice.
It falls away.
How many times are you going to laugh before you see her?
When will you realize that she’s here?
Oh… the beaches…
Oh… the beaches…
Can you see her waiting in the long
grass by the cliffside by the sea?
When you’ve forgotten every word we ever said,
will you still know my face and name?
Will you remember the beaches?
Oh… the beaches…
Oh… the beaches…
Will you remember the beaches?
Baby needs new shoes —
God, give me a winning hand.
Well, my baby needs a new coat,
and a brand new pair of pants…
My baby’s the sweetest man my eyes could ever see,
but my baby, he don’t care for me.
Baby’s working all day long
until his back is breaking…
They tell you that prosperity
is yours for the taking.
I’ll take what I can get, ‘cuz I’m as poor as can be,
cuz my baby, he don’t care for me.
Deal the cards, boy; roll them dice…
the numbers never stop in the same place twice.
If I win this game, maybe I can shake off these blues…
Baby needs new shoes.
Baby needs new shoes —
old ones are getting thin.
There’s an ill wind blowing,
and it’s colder than sin.
If I could mean everything that he means to me,
maybe then he’d see…
You know I give him everything I can,
do all I can do…
I’d give him everything I have,
I’d give him what I haven’t got too…
But I know he’s gonna let me down, he’s gonna set me free…
My baby, he don’t care for me.
Autumn winds, steadying the old house
for a journey once more into snow.
I stopped here once before, you know,
but you didn’t recognize me then.
Painted fences, lawns swept clear of leaves
don’t fall in California.
After dusk settles on the canyons
no way to know where you are.
Like an echo of a future not arrived,
I see you standing in the doorway —
but where is the doorway?
Time is cruel, leaving me a heat wave
while leading you alone through the cold.
While I freeze, you keep burning brighter —
will you remember me when we’re old?
Will we meet again?
The world is not so large…
Autumn winds, steadying the old house
for a journey once more into snow.
I stopped here once before, you know,
but you didn’t recognize me then.
I was playing gin with an angel;
I was trying not to move too soon.
She had hair like the winter night-grass,
skin like the silvery moon.
My heart was on the table with a bunch of empty paper cups.
I pushed the bottles to one side. I laid down a card and she picked it up.
You know I don’t play my cards too close;
doesn’t seem to be much point to it.
Sooner or later they gonna find out anyhow,
and I’d rather fall out now then suffer all through it.
So I forgot to be careful, I forgot what I might have had to lose.
She kept her hands on the table. I forgot she had the power to choose.
(I always keep an ace up my sleeve, – but it’s the ace of joy.)
I couldn’t see through the smoke haze in her eyes
to the bones of glass within,
to the faith that she’d lost in her own power,
to the faith she must have lost in men,
So I trod on her carpet. I wiped my hands on her veil.
I flayed the wax from her stopper… poured cheap wine in her grail.
I was drinking gin with an angel;
it was about quarter to three…
So how many empty bottles do you have to move before you’re free?
And how many aces do you have to draw before there’s no more?
And how many times must I be drunk and broke and walking out that door?
I looked up at the angel, said, “You know, it occurs to me…”
Then someone put down the nine of knives,
and I don’t think it was me.
I turned to the angel, said, “Girl, what’s it gonna be?”
Then someone put down the nine of knives,
and I don’t think it was me.
(you know, it might have been me)