You well-meaning brought me here - Weather The Storm

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You well-meaning brought me here

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Genesis I, Verse 20
Mother of Adam how can I conceive
The garden of light oh Father of Eve
Lo something stirs your still waters move from the land
I see him turn twixt sea and earth see him stand.

Vapour and forest leaf, fern and trees,
Volcano and rainstorm how slowly he breathes.
What do you feel what colours before your eyes,
Greatest of creatures do you see the sun rise?

Lava and brimstone in air where no bird has flown
Lake, swamp and river skin of slippery stone
Night time and cooling the moon is changing too
Five days and lightning salt-dried and whitening you.

Thunder and rainbow, flower, fruit and spring
Above you the currents are moved by the leather of wings.
Tendagaroo does the minnowing sea have a plan
Time slips away and on the sixth day will come man.
 

First And Last Man
I am your noble savage, but to me I am a man,
The father of my sons, the server of my woman.
 
I have made my bow, I take only what I need,
I am the maker of fire, and the planter of seed.
 
I have learned an order in things, and I teach my children
For each seed a star, to each son a generation.
 
I have no time for freedom, barefoot I run on the forest leaves.
There is pain in birth, but for the dead I do not grieve.
 
I have cut marks on my body, there is beauty in pain
There is sadness in joy, like death and the sunset.
 
I am the willing heathen, I worship everything.
I will add new words to my language but write them on the wind.

I am the maker of music, and the reader of the heavens.
I am the worker of magic, and the fearer of storms.

I am the writer in sand. I am the first and last man.
And if I could read the future, I would ask you not to come.
 

In Some Way I Loved You
I can tell by your laughter
You think you know what I'm after
And I don't mind that you know
I'm just sorry I let it show.

I can tell by your eyes
That the suggestion comes as little or no surprise
And you don't mind that I know
Or you wouldn't have let it show.

I can tell by your walk
I won't need to make small talk
When we get home
Like ask your name and then promise to 'phone.

I can tell by your smile
That tomorrow you will not think that it's been worthwhile
And I don't know what to say
To prove it need not be that way.

I can tell by your smile
That tomorrow you will not think that it's been worthwhile
And I don't know what to say
To prove it need not be that way.

I can tell by your crying
You'd only think I was lying
If I said what I know to be true
That tonight in some way I loved you
That tonight in some way I loved you.

Lay Your Money Down
So I asked the landlady,
“Do you really think I'm crazy,
Spending my time in here,
Drinking down you watery beer?”
Then she said that “Life’s too short
To spend your time wrapped in worried thought.
Oh come on and drink up dear
And lay your money down,
And lay your money down”.

But I said, “Well there must be more”
When some man said he fought in the war
For me and I was ungrateful
He said “Gimme another drink Mabel
For all those good times then”.
And Mabel said, “You can say that again”.
And they did 'till they were unable.
They laid their money down,
They just laid their money down.

Oh then in the following silence
I tried very hard to make sense
Of the things that the man did say
When he turned and quickly walked away.
All he said was “Time is money, oh I've got to go now” and I thought
“That’s funny did he really risk his life for me?”
Or just lay his money down,
He just lay his money down.
 

Old Brown Dog
That old brown dog sleeps in the rain
Unless the sun has shone. 
That old brown dog is all alone,
Since Old Bill been gone. 
And sleeping in the rain
Only gives a dog a bad name.
If Bill were alive
Well I know he would decide
To have the same thing done.
 
That old brown dog he smells so bad,
Say the people from the town.
That old brown dog is almost lame,
Someone should put him down. 
It would be an act of kindness,
You know it's for the best.
You bring a rope, bring a gun,
And it'll all be over
Before the dog can guess.
 
Could an old brown dog have become wise
Guessed they were all after him.
His hearing was failing, and his eyes
Were fast growing dim.
On the day they came to kill him
He sensed a rabbit on a log.
Did anybody see a rabbit
Chased across the meadows
By an old brown dog.
 
That old brown dog, tail wagging,
As he laid himself down.
It did not seam to matter,
That the rabbit had long gone to ground.
And there in the summer heat,
His old heart ceased to beat
And high above the meadow
The skylarks singing as the spark went out.

Pick Up a Gun
The adverts in the papers solicit soldiers for the army
But they never tell you nothing about the girls in the garrison towns.
Like how they will mistreat you and how old friends will see you
When you trade your name for a number and a uniform of brown
When you pick up a gun
And you say goodbye to Mama.
And away from home you run.

And the way that Sergeant shouted it's just to drive you crazy
I was luckier than many for I got released in time
Now they tell me I'm a free man but sometimes I still doubt it
For the more I think about it freedom's just a state of mind
That they keep with the gun
Thank you for the gift of your son.
Praise The Lord and praise the bomb.

The politician tells the people you've got to have an army
And the soldier tells the writer the pen is mightier than the sword,
But sticks and stones can break my bones and words will never harm me
Said the poet and the writer to the soldier with his words.
“Thy will be done”,
Said the preacher man
Lowering another poor boy down.

And I can see the soldiers dying watch the writer vainly trying
His pen dipped in their blood when he writes that the dead have got the glory
You can play with the words but you won't change the story.
Put a gun in their hands
Fill their heads full of lies
Put strength in their hearts and fear in their eyes.

Old soldiers never die they only fade away
But the young ones do not die, no they are cut down instead
And someone pulled the trigger, gave the order, held the sword,
And some one wrote the advert in the paper that they read.
Thy will be done,
But you won't get your hands on my son.
You can wait till kingdom come.

You Well Meaning Brought Me Here
How do you expect me to feel now you tell me I've arrived
And here I am but I tremble when I stand
For I feel I'm on the outside.
Where did it go wrong
Won't you point it out please show
I know you well meaning brought me here so you must know.

I know every stranger here and the love they lend.
But now that's gone and still the need for it goes on
Oh how I need a good friend
I should have known that in the end
I'd have to answer to myself
And though you well meaning brought me here now you cannot help.

And I never meant to come this far
And I never thought I'd lose my way.
And now I know who they are.
But I still get hurt by the things they say
This place has no kings only courtiers live here.
Fine words, fine clothes, fine promises that they make in fear.

I am tired but I cannot rest beneath this roof
If here I lie it would be easier to try
But where could I tell the truth.
Please don't look so strangely now
As if I failed some kind of test.
I know you well meaning brought me here and I've done my best.
 

Chalk Dust
“Goodnight, Miss Johnson” calls the Janitor,
Finishing his nightly rounds.
Continuing to clean the blackboard,
She answers without looking round.
And it's far too easy to erase
The hard planned lessons of another day.

Then she carefully packs her briefcase
And blows the chalk dust from her hands.
Winds up the windows and she feeds the fishes
But forgets about the plants.
Oh, the biology class,
And the questions that the young girls ask.

She hears them whisper in the playground,
She hears them talk in huddled groups
And those words scrawled on the blackboard,
She half believes they are the truth
And no one asked the reason why
Something in assembly made Miss Johnson cry.

Chalk dust settles everywhere,
Dries her voice, whitens her hair.
Finding, filling every space
But for punishment a hundred lines upon her face.

There is chalk dust on the letter
That she slips beneath the door
And there are letters in the chalk dust
That daily fill the corridors
From all the lessons she's erased
Are chalk dust floating in the rays of sunset
Through the window pane.
 

Ballad of Dancing Doreen, The
See how the lady moves so gracefully across the dance hall floor.
All eyes upon the two thousand hand-sewn sequins on the gown she wore
She not only moves, but she looks like a queen
Making up for the evenings at home that she spent with her sewing machine.

Brian's a postman by day but tonight he is a king.
Lovely Doreen in his arms and no one will notice him.
Only the lady turning her head once more smiles for the judges,
Hopes that they give her the highest score.

Brian's hair shining, just like his patent leather, potent lover shoes.
Lovely Doreen in his arms how could they lose
And after each dance she prettily curtseys
Into the quicksteps, the tangos, the fox trots, the waltzes.

Wheeling and spinning, weaving and turning the evening is closing
In a few minutes now they'll hear the name of the winners
That the judges have chosen,
But her name wasn't called and Brian fought back his tears.
Doreen didn't move, she just sat there, smiling she did not hear.

And long after all the other dancers had gone home,
Out on the dance floor Doreen was dancing alone.
And Doreen was dancing when they called the management.
Doreen was dancing when he called the doctor.
Doreen was dancing when they called the ambulance.
Doreen was dancing and no one could stop her...
Dancing.

Claudia
Friday evening finds me in a favourite bar of mine
Drinking with some friends with whom I like to spend my time
When in comes John and he’s bleeding from his mouth and from his chin
I said “My friend John come here and tell me what kind of trouble you’ve been in.”
And he said,  “You won’t believe it.  I can’t believe it myself.
Will you let me sit down, can you get me a drink and a handkerchief for my mouth?”

“You see, Friday evening finds me coming down to meet you here
I got nothing more on my mind than a long cool glass of beer
When these four guys that jumped me and they did this to my face
And one of them shouted something about my colour and my race.
Oh no I don’t wanna believe it but there’s this ringing that’s in my ears.
And if it wasn’t for the pain to remind me again I swear I’d have to break down in tears.”

And Claudia’s from Harlem, she warned it wouldn’t do no good
Sitting with your safe friends when you talk of brotherhood
You back-bar revolutionaries only talk about what to do
You end up too drunk on your theories to ever see them through.
Oh no I cannot believe it has it really got this late?
I can’t put the clock back a few cool beers and say it’s all been a big mistake.

Claudia’s from Harlem she’s an artist and she works
She’s rejected all your sympathy now how can you ask for hers?
Too late for you to say now you know just how she feels
While you fumble with your modelling clay, Claudia builds in steel.

And Friday evening finds me stacked up drunk against the wall
Will you hold on John for I’m feeling bad and if you slip we both fall.
For John is as white as I am and we both love everyone
I thought everybody must have known that by now but they have all gone home.

Oh no I cannot believe it has it really got this late?
I can’t put the clock back a few cool beers and say it’s all been a big mistake.
Oh no I don’t wanna believe it but until the ringing in their ears.
They’re going to swear to God they never thought those things could happen here.

Ferryman, The 
Oh, the traveller moving on the land, behold I give you, I give you the travelling man.
And he's very heavy laden with the questions in his burden.
Lo, and I give you the travelling man.
He has crossed the mountains, he has forded streams.
He has spent a long time surviving on his dreams.
Many times he's tried to lighten up his heavy load.
But his compromises fail him and he ends back on the road.

Oh the traveller he is weary, the travelling man he is tired.
For the road is never ending in his fear he has cried aloud for a saviour
And in vain for a teacher, someone to lighten up the load
And he's heard the sounds of war in a gentle shower of rain
And the whisperings of despair that he could not explain.
The reason for his journey or the reason it began
Or was there any reason for the travelling man.

At last he reached a river so beautiful and wide
But the current was so strong he could not reach the other side
And the weary travelling man looked for a ferryman strong enough to row against the tide,
And the ferryman was old but he moved the boat so well,
Or did the river move the boat? The traveller could not tell.
Said the ferryman, “You're weary and the answers that you seek,
Are in the singing river, listen humbly it will speak.”

Oh, the traveller closed his eyes and he listened and he heard
Only the river murmuring and the beating of his heart.
Then he heard the river laughing, and he heard the river crying
And in it was the beauty and the sadness of the world
And he heard the sounds of dying, but he heard the sounds of birth
And slowly his ears heard all the songs of earth.
The sounds blended together and they became a whole
And the rhythm was his heartbeat to the music his soul.

And the river had no beginning, as it flowed into the sea
And the seas filled the clouds and the rains filled the streams
And as slowly as the sunrise, he opened up his eyes
To find the ferryman had gone, the boat moved gently on the tide.
And the river flowed within him, and with it he was one
And the seas moved around the earth, and the earth around the sun.
And the traveller was the river, was the boat and ferryman,
Was the journey and the song that the singing river sang.

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