I’ll be speaking to you sweetly from my window in the tower of song.
My friends are gone and my hair is grey.
I ache in the places where I used to play.
And I’m crazy for love, but I’m not coming on.
I’m just paying my rent every day in the tower of song.
THE FUTURE
DEMOCRACY
It’s coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It’s coming from the feel
that it ain’t exactly real,
or it’s real, but it ain’t exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day;
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming through a crack in the wall,
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don’t pretend to understand at all.
It’s coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming from the sorrow on the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin’
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray
for the grace of G-d in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on
o mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
past the Reefs of Greed
through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on
It’s coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It’s here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.
It’s here the family’s broken
and it’s here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we’ll be making love again.
We’ll be going down so deep
that the river’s going to weep,
and the mountain’s going to shout Amen!
It’s coming like the tidal flood
beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious,
in amorous array:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on
o mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
past the Reefs of Greed
through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on
I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean:
I love the country but I can’t stand the scene.
And I’m neither left or right
I’m just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I’m junk but I’m still holding up
this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
THE FUTURE
Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
It’s lonely here,
there’s no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that’s an order!
Give me crack and anal sex
Take the only tree that’s left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin Wall
give me Stalin and St. Paul
I’ve seen the future, brother:
it is murder.
Things are going to slide in all directions
Won’t be nothing
Nothing you can measure any more
The blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT
I wonder what they meant
You don’t know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I’m the little jew
who wrote the bible
I’ve seen the nations rise and fall
I’ve heard their stories, heard them all
but love’s the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It’s over, it ain’t going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil’s riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder.
Things are going to slide in all directions
There’ll be the breaking
of the ancient western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There’ll be phantoms
there’ll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You’ll see your woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
trying to sound like Charlie Manson
Give me back the Berlin Wall
give me Stalin and St. Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don’t like children anyhow
I’ve seen the future, baby:
it is murder.
Things are going to slide in all directions
Won’t be nothing
Nothing you can measure any more
The blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT
I wonder what they meant
ANTHEM
The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again,
I heard them say,
Don’t dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
The wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again;
the dove is never free.
Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.
We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed,
the marriage spent;
the widowhood
of every government —
signs for all to see.
Can’t run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they’ve summoned up
a thundercloud
They’re going to hear from me.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.
You can add up the parts
but you won’t have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum.
Every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.
LIGHT AS THE BREEZE
She stands before you naked
you can see it, you can taste it
but she comes to you
light as the breeze
You can drink or you can nurse it
it don’t matter how you worship
as long as you’re
down on your knees
So I knelt there at the delta
at the alpha and the omega
at the cradle of the river
and the seas
And like a blessing come from heaven,
for something like a second,
I was healed, and my heart
was at ease
O baby I waited
so long for your kiss
for something to happen
oh — something like this
And you’re weak and you’re harmless
and you’re sleeping in your harness
and the wind going wild
in the trees
And it’s not exactly prison
but you’ll never be forgiven
for whatever you’ve done
with the keys
O baby I waited
so long for your kiss
for something to happen
oh — something like this
It’s dark and it’s snowing
I’ve got to be going
St. Lawrence River
is starting to freeze
And I’m sick of
