Everything About It is a Love Song

If I ever come back as a tree, or a crow

Or even the wind-blown dust

Find me on the ancient road in the song when the wires are hushed

Hurry on and remember me, as I'll remember you

Far above the golden clouds, the darkness vibrates

The earth is blue

And everything about it is a love song.

Everything about it.

~P. Simon

Re-Post: Madre

May 21st, 2010

You need not hold me back, woman
I am but a curious son.
You cannot do it all, Mother
And I do not expect the world anymore
If I check in with my Friend
Friend is you of course
It is not to dive into things
Things that still sting
Things I have not yet mustered
The Energy to face.
It's to hear stories of the hospital
Of our crazy veterans
Of our crazy family members
My crazy little sister
Frightened of bugs
And to tell you
That I really do love you.

Re-Post: Untitled #12

Come now, Little Ones
And tell me
How the Heart sits inside You
The Fleeting ticks of the Clock
And for the first time
You realize
Like us all
That You're Speeding

And if Venice is Sinking

Jesus hangs behind the glass above Venetian doors
His window box boasts crimson flowers, fresh cut the day before
And you couldn't find a smile if you nailed it to his face
But Jesus Christ hangs his head with grace

And if Venice is sinking, I'm going under
'Cause beauty's religion and it's christened me with wonder

They come in bent-backed, creeping 'cross the floor, all dressed in black
Candles, thick as pillars, you can buy one off the floor
And the ceiling's painted gold, Mary's hair is red
The old come here to kiss their dead

And if Venice is sinking, I'm going under
'Cause beauty's religion and it's Christened me with wonder

We made love upon a bed that sagged down to the floor
In a room that had a postcard on the door
Of Marini's little man with an erection on a horse,
It always leaves me laughing
Leaves me feeling that of course if

Venice is sinking, I'm going under
'Cause beauty's religion and it's christened me with wonder
Venice is sinking, I'm going under
'Cause beauty's religion and it's christened me with wonder

The Late Great Johnny Ace

I was reading a magazine
And thinking of a rock and roll song
The year was nineteen fiftysix
And I hadn't been playing that long
When a man came on the radio
And this is what he said
He said I hate to break it to his fans
But Johnny Ace is dead
Well, I really wasn't
Such a Johnny Ace fan
But I felt bad all the same
So I sent away for his photograph
And I wait untill it came
It came all the way from Texas
With a sad and sim-ple face
And they signed it on the bottom
From the Late Great Johnny Ace

It was the year of The Beatles
It was the year of The Stones
It was nineteen sixtyfour
I was living in London
With the girl from the summer be-fore

It was the year of The Beatles
It was the year of The Stones
A year after J.F.K.
We were staying up all night
And giving the days away
And the music was flowing amazing
And blowing my way

On a cold December evening
I was walking through the Christmas tide
When a stranger came up and asked me
If I'd heard John Lennon had died
And the two of us went to this bar
And we stayed to close the place
And every song we played
Was for The Late Great Johnny Ace
-Paul Simon