Firebrands and Golden Strands

I have seen the Lord

Like a deer that’s turned to granite

In the headlights’ coming glare

I have seen the Lord

Like a cow in a tornado,

Doing cartwheels in the air

I have seen the Lord

Like a moth who flew too near the lamp

And burned his hairy derriere

I have seen the Lord.

I have seen the Lord. (x4)

Like a young man after his first kiss

Gets those stars behind his eyes

I have seen the Lord

Like a love-sick father’s lost son

Finally coming over the rise

I have seen the Lord

Like a good wife takes her man

And then she gently cuts him down to size

I have seen the Lord

From my toes up to my fingers

In my mind and in my senses

I have seen the Lord

In the billows of my laughter

In the tears of bitter joy

I have seen the Lord

In the swinging of the hinges

In the silence of his presence

I have seen the Lord

Hmmm… I have seen the Lord

Sitting on his throne

And the temple

Was filled with his glory.

Hmmm….

See for miles

In a world of weal and duty

There’s a place I like to go

A refuge from the burdens

Of the duties down below

It’s a place I’d like to take you

To let the coils unwind

If you fill your lungs with cleansing air

You gradually will find

You can see for miles

See for miles

You can see for miles

You can see for miles

When you’ve walked a dozen miles

In another person’s shoes

When your heart has gotten blisters

And your feet have got the blues

When the crowds are pressing closer

And there’s trouble in the air

When loaves and fish is all you’ve got

And no one wants to share

(Come out where…)

You can see for miles

When the sinking sands of duty

Got you buried to your neck

When your third eye’s looking funny

And your muse won’t take a check

When the jaded joy of calling

Has become a distant chime

When the privilege of serving

Comes to feel like doing time

(Come out here where…)

You can see for miles…

Spike’s recurring nightmare

Sometimes I wake up screaming

Sometimes I wake up sweating

Sometimes I find the nail-marks

In the headboard of  my bed.

What arrows are they shooting?

What animals are prowling?

Those scary midnight phantoms

Are all crowded in my head.

Last night I had that dream again

The one I know you’ve heard

The people all came early

And they shouted for the word

I opened up the Good Book

But the words had gone away

I was standing there buck naked

I didn’t have a single thing to say.

Sometimes…

Those scary midnight phantoms

Are all crowded in my head.

They brought me jars of water

And I turned them into wine

I said I didn’t mean to

But they said it was a sign

Five thousand people

Were all sitting on my lawn

I had to knock myself out

giving them food

From bedtime until dawn.

Sometimes…

If you look into my bloodshot eyes

You can see into my head.

Well the Devil was working at Starbucks

And he handed me a foaming cup

I didn’t want to drink it

But I just couldn’t wake up

Couldn’t wake up…. (aaagghh!)

(And smell the coffee)

I was dashing through an airport

I was sprinting for a train

I was flagging every taxi

Just take me home again

But my legs were caught in quicksand

And my feet were made of clay

My sins were catching up to me

And I couldn’t run away.

Sometimes…

If you look into my bloodshot eyes

Then you will see it’s no surprise.

Sometimes…

If I ever meet the things I dream

I’m afraid that I will end up dead.

Our souls are soil

Clouds rolled around

In a swirl of grey

Down from the mountain

At the coming of day

God’s second-hand smoke

Filled the valley with jewels

Glistening in the sun’s first rays

Little bird at dawn

With a big white chest

Squeezing the air

As she leaves her nest

Rising and falling

With the silent grace

Of the impossible brought to life.

Oh our souls are soil

Turn them gently

Our souls are soil

Won’t you turn them again?

Follow the path

In the land that you till

Serpentine sinews

Of habit and will

Cherish their roots

And honor the depths

From which this time has grown

The soil in the garden

Voluptuous and new

Bursting with promise

And moist with the dew

Awakens in me

The desire for you

To make me the work of your hand.

Oh our souls are soil…

Turn

Turn again

Turn again

Our souls are soil

Won’t you turn them again.

We feasted that day

Without a care

Using spoonfuls of pepper

That would singe your hair

A worm in my apple

Breaking the curse

Renewing my love for the earth

Luminous colors

Breaking the gloom

Red of the martyrs

And royalty’s blue

Arrows of gentian

A wall shot with light

Firebrand piercing me through

Oh our souls are soil…

Oh my soul is soil

Turn me gently

My soul is soil

Won’t you turn me again.

Greek to me

Well all those ancient historians

Would have been so glad the other night

I was at the airport

And it was like a field-trip

from some book you dusted off in seventh grade

They’re all sitting there

Waiting for a plane to arrive

Old Socrates sitting in a corner

Pretty in pink

Called me over

Methodically extended an ice-cold tankard

And said, “Hey, son, have a drink.”

Said: “Here’s something to take the edge off while you wait.”

I said, “No, man, I’m good, I don’t do that stuff.”

Heplock, hemlock, deadlock, brainlock

It’s all Greek to me

That’s right – yeah, it’s all Greek to me.

Well old Paul the holy apostle

He’s standing over by the baggage claim

Trying to sell someone a tent

He’s taking an unfathomable interest in the stonework around the conveyor belt

He seems kind of out of place

What with his stutter and that weird thorn-thing sticking out of his ankle

And he seems really concerned that everyone’s misinterpreted the things he said about women.

He said, “You know, I never said half the stuff they think I said.

It’s just how the translators did their work.”

I say, “Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians.

Sorry man, it’s all Greek to me.”

Huh-huh…It’s all Greek to me.

Well Nero’s sitting in the restaurant

Watching the NBA Finals

The closest thing he could find to a circus, spoiled brat.

He’s ordering another round at the bar

(And)He lets me pick up the tab

He pulls out a violin case

He says, “Do you like music?  Well, so do I.  Let’s fiddle while the sparks fly!”

Roman master, meet the pastor

Playin faster

Hey man, I got a Stratocaster.

It’s all Greek to me – huh, huh.

You know, it’s all Greek to me.

You know, old John the Baptist

He’s all done up in his camel hair and belt

He’s got a tray of hors d’oeuvres

And he’s trying to hawk them to people outside, telling them about the end of the world.

He’s got locusts and honey

And some other really bizarre-looking stuff on rye Triscuits.

He looks me in the eye and he says,

“You watch a girl dance,

It’ll go right to your head.”

I say, “Man, you’ve got no idea what you just said.”

Seven veils, happy trails

Hairy males, No this ain’t Veggie Tales.

It’s all Greek to me.

And over our heads, all hell breaks loose on the TV monitors.

Bill Haley’s fighting it out with Bill O’Reilly Who is trying to tell me about some girl that got abducted and what they did or didn’t do to her.

And meanwhile, Rupert Murdoch,

somewhere on a yacht,

is tightening his grip on the captive audiences.

Popping olives like they were something stronger.

Socrates, Nero, John and Paul

After all these years haven’t we learned at all?

Politics, idee-fixe, get the latest pics

GOP, DNC, you think it really matters to me?

Deep Throat, what they wrote, really got your goat.

Filibuster, willie-duster, power-luster, Paternoster

It’s all Greek to me – huh-huh

Bricks without straw

You gave them all that they asked for

But it wasn’t enough

They took all your achievements

And they ground them into the dust

Into the dust.

Those bean-counting servants

Of the fiscally wise

Never could raise their myopic eyes

To see beyond

The bottom line

You gave your life-blood

Making bricks without straw

Your life-blood

Making bricks without straw

As God is my witness

Your life has a plan

Drawing you up

And out of this land

Out of this land.

Let go of the flesh-pots

Of dull-edged excess

You don’t need them

To prove your success

The cloud and the fire

Are before you.

Cause I’ve seen the future

And I know how it will end

And I’m living with that vision

And so are you my friends.

Don’t try to restrain them

Leave your Hummer at camp

Where they are going

You can’t force them back

The waters are parting

The waters are parting

And I’m sad to see you go

But I know that it’s right

Watch you walk out

With your heads held high

Get on the road now

Don’t look back

No more making

Those bricks without straw

Let someone else make

Those bricks without straw

And in the howling wind

Hear the wheels cry

Stuck forever

Where the sun don’t shine.

Wall of water

Canopy of blue

Solid ground beneath you

As you keep on walking through

Wall of water

Canopy of blue

Solid ground beneath you

As you keep on walking through

Keep on walking through.

Paris

Paris in winter

Is colder than ice

We arrived with our love on the rocks

Too young to drink

But old enough to bear

The weight of our question

When you love at long-distance

There comes a time to decide

Will you break up

or seal your commitment?

A weekend together

Seemed good at the time

To help us say what we both wanted

Oh, how we danced

How we danced with the moon up above

Stumbling and tumbling

And stumbling again

The Parisian waltz of our love.

We walked to Emmaus

On the Champs-Elysées

Talking in circles, not seeing

No tour-guide beside us

To show us the way

But still our hearts were burning.

We sat by the river

And tested our depths

Could we put out the fire deep within us

The future arising

Like smoke from our lips

Till debating drove us to silence

Oh, how we danced

How we danced with the moon up above

Stumbling and tumbling

And stumbling again

The Parisian waltz of our love.

The walls of the buildings

Had fingers that grabbed

Pressing inwards

Urging onwards

Saying:

This is the city of love…

This is the city of love…

This is the city of love…

At one in the morning

On New Year’s Eve eve

You smiled as you birthed the request

I asked you the same

We counted to three

And said:

Yes… Yes… Yes…

Oh, how we danced

How we danced with the moon up above

Stumbling and tumbling

And stumbling again

The Parisian waltz of our love.

Lai, lai, lai, lai…

Half moon over Austin

I’m standing at the window

As the sun goes down.

You’re singing softly

As you dry your hair.

And I feel your warmth beside me

As you lace your hand in mine

And we watch that silver dollar

Rise in the air.

It’s a difficult thing to join

Two strong souls together

With very different calls

You don’t know where you’ll end.

But in all these years of constant change

Your wedding gift remains

You’re still the lover

Who is my best friend.

Half-moon over Austin

With your love and music

Shaking down the dawn.

Gonna fill the holes

Within our souls

And then be moving on

We can sleep when we get home

Half-moon, shine on.

Somehow having kids

Can turn a man into a child

You gain a sense of fun

But you can lose your nerve.

So it’s good to be reminded

That you and I can still stay out till four

And gaze in each other’s eyes

Till they shut the door.

Oh… Half-moon over Austin…

There are times in life

When everything stands still

There are other times

When everything goes too fast

But tonight as I sit and hold your gaze

The clocks just lost their hands

This moment’s like a chord

That never ends

Oh… Half-moon over Austin…

Platform No. 9

Uno… dos… treis… Huhh!

Well I’m writing you this letter

From platform number nine

Got my backpack and my chocolate bars

And your picture in my mind.

Well I’m chekin’ out the chicks as they pass

Seein’ all the competition

Makes me smile

Cause the more I see reminds me

It’s you I’m really missin’

There are lots of women in the world

I know – I’ve seen a few

But the longer we’re together babe

I only want to be with you.

Un… deux… trois….   Huhh!

Well those Swiss girls they are solid

With their hair up in a braid

Like a stopwatch up on steroids

They will organize your day.

The French girls bring you flowers

When they call you out to play

With their baguettes and their almonds and their chocolate and whatever

And their café au lait

Well those magnificent Dutch girls

They’ll tower over your head

And they’ll throw you over their shoulder

When it’s time for bed

Scandinavian beauties

With their eyes icy blue

Know how to say “Ja!” in any language

And they’ll mean it for you

There are lots of pretty faces

From the Channel to the Baltic Sea

But out of all the women in the world

You’re the only one for me.

Ein… Zwei… Drei… Huhh!

Well Italian girls got passion

Oh yeah… it’ll flare up at a spark

But you know, boys,

That could be an advantage

When your hands touch in the dark (Ow!)

And those sweet English lasses

They’re a dangerous rose

You know they’re not as prim as you suppose.

Because at night-time, when the sun goes down

They go out clubbing

Wearing hardly any clothes

(Ha ha – what! what! – ha ha ha ha!)

Well there are lots of women in the world

I know – I’ve seen a few

But the longer we’re together honey

I only want to be with you

There are lots of pretty faces

From the Channel to the Baltic Sea

But out of all the women in this world

You’re the only one for me.

You’re the only woman for me

You’re only one for me

For me…  for me….

With you… with you…

Self-help and satisfaction

There are lots of people who will tell you

That you’re not what you should be

They’ll give you books and magazines

And seminars for free

Well I’m here to say that good advice

Ain’t worth a pail of pee.

Self-help and satisfaction

Ain’t done a lot for me.

For fifteen years, I had the crazy wish

To work on my physique

I grunted like a randy boar

At the Y three times a week.

Didn’t end up looking like Ahh-nuld

More like Elmer Fudd in heat!

Self-help and satisfaction

Ain’t done a lot for me

Self-help and happiness

A Speedo and a muscle-T

Great pecs and a six-pack

Gonna make me a love machine!

You can take your pick of all the ways

To get rid of your misery,

Self-help and satisfaction

Ain’t done a lot for me.

I tried to give up talking

Like a bloke from overseas

I learned to spell without a “u”

And to count from A to “Zee”

But still my trans-Atlantic drawl

Don’t fit THE LAND OF THE FREE

AND THE HOME OF

Self-help and satisfaction

Ain’t done a lot for me.

Self-help and happiness

From sea to shining sea

Yankee elocution

No more “rain in Spain” for me

You can take your pick of all the ways

To get rid of your misery,

Self-help and satisfaction

Ain’t done a lot for me.

I got a box of shiny tapes

On how to grow my self-esteem

How to put on a sunny outlook

No matter how bad things might seem.

You just look at yourself in the mirror, put on a smile, and say…

I FEEL HAPPY,

I FEEL HEALTHY,

I FEEL TERRIFIC!

I FEEL HAPPY,

I FEEL HEALTHY,

I FEEL TERRIFIC!

(Oh, come on…)

Self-help and satisfaction

Ain’t done a lot for me.

By now I should know better

Than to stupidly believe

Those headband-wearing gurus

Who throw in Ginsu knives for free.

But each time I get suckered in

And forget what’s plain to see

Self-help and satisfaction

Ain’t done a lot for me.

Self-help and happiness

In the land of the free

Only three installments of $19.99

Will get you a money-back guarantee

You can take your pick of all the ways

To get rid of your misery

Self-help and satisfaction

Ain’t done a lot for me.

A cord with three strands

If I stumble and fall

Will you lift me up?

When I lie down

Will you keep me warm?

When I’m overwhelmed

Will you stand by            me?

A cord with three strands

Is not quickly broken.

A cord with three strands

Is not quickly broken.

There’s a madness in every heart

That we carry through the years.

Dreams come with many cares

And the stubbornness of words.

Rather be a kickin’ dog

Than a lion that’s dead and gone

While we have breath,

there’s a flicker of hope

And we keep on holding on.

If all you want is money

Money will never be enough

If collecting things is what turns you on

Well, you’ll never have enough stuff

Send your bread out on the waters

One day you’ll get it back.

Grab onto that golden strand

It’s the one thing that you lack.

So drink your wine with a merry heart

With enjoyment eat your bread

Walk out in your party whites

Keep oil upon your head

Whatever your hand finds to do

Won’t you do it with all of your might

Enjoy yourself with the one you love

For this is your portion in life.

My life is in your hands

Opened the window late last night

And the breath came blowing in

The only companion in another sleepless night

Watched my candle bend in that wind

I’m on fire now, stretchin’ upwards

Let the morning begin

Sittin by the river

Carried me away

Put me in a different country

Where that sea of crystal lay

And the stingin touch

Of a burning coal

Ssss team rising

I’m on fire now

I can almost see the day

Well I rode with the prophets

Through the open fields

Isaiah and his empires

Bruce with his helicopters and his silver wheels

And the saline drip

And the open wound

Stunned into silence

But inside I’m on fire now

Let the light begin to heal

The landscape is littered

With the broken remains

Of a life that could never be whole

What does it profit a man

If he gains the whole world

But loses his soul?

There’s a fever in my room

The buzzing of the street outside

That’s how I left in ‘89

It’s how I’ll leave you tonight

Cause my soul’s on fire now

And my life is in your hands.

My life is in your hands

My life is in your hands

Into your hands…