I gotta see my girl, I gotta see her eyes
The barometer is falling, only she can make it rise
There’s nothing on the trees, there’s nothing for me here
I gotta find salvation and some thermal underwear
It’s cold and it’s getting colder
They’re evacuating Satan who’s waiting for hell to freeze over
Oh it’s cold, like an endless winter
The stars are all gone and even the sun is cold
The moons on the run and even the sun is cold
Now you spit out the sky
Because it’s empty and hollow
All your dreams
Are hanging out to dry
Stars are stars
And they shine so cold
We are magic in the night
We are shadow, we are light
We are forever you and I
We’re stars
We’re stars
We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon,
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.
Creatures kissing in the rain-shapeless in the dark again
In the hanging garden please don’t speak
In the hanging garden no one sleeps
Catching halos on the moon gives my hands the shapes of angels
In the heat of the night the animals scream
In the heat of the night walking into a dream
[Spoken:]
[Boy:] On a hot summer night,
would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?
[Girl:] Will he offer me his mouth?
[Boy:] Yes.
[Girl:] Will he offer me his teeth?
[Boy:] Yes.
[Girl:] Will he offer me his jaws?
[Boy:] Yes.
[Girl:] Will he offer me his hunger?
[Boy:] Yes.
[Girl:] Again, will he offer me his hunger?
[Boy:] Yes!
[Girl:]And will he starve without me?
[Boy:] Yes!
[Girl:] And does he love me?
[Boy:] Yes.
[Girl:] Yes.
[Boy:] On a hot summer night,
would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?
[Girl:] Yes.
[Boy:] I bet you say that to all the boys!
Cop’s face is filled with hate
Heavens above he’s on a street called love
When will they ever learn
Old cop young cop feel alright
On a warm San Franciscan night
The children are cool, they don’t raise fools
It’s an American dream includes Indians too
Oh it’s all in the past you can say
But it’s still going on here today
The governments now want the Navaho land
That of the Inuit and the Cheyenne
It’s here and it’s now you can help us dear man
Now that the buffalo’s gone
This land is the land of ours, this river runs red over it
We are not your allies, we cannot defend
This is where they walked
This is where they swam
Take a picture here
Take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
What would you say if you knew what I was thinking?
Maybe you do, but you know not to dig too deep
What if I knew what you needed for sure?
I’ve seen in your eyes you need more, much more
And I could be happy, and you could be miserable
I’ll grab a metaphor out of the air
The Cuyahoga River on fire
Cleveland, city of light, city of magic
Cleveland, city of light, you’re calling me
Cleveland, even now I can remember
‘Cause the Cuyahoga River goes smokin’ through my dreams
Oh, I forbid you maidens all
That wear gold in your hair
To come or go by Carterhaugh
For young Tam Lin is there
If you go by Carterhaugh
You must leave him a wad
Either your rings or green mantle
Or else your maidenhead
Let’s get the hell out of here
Let’s get the hell out of here
Going up
Going down
D’ya wanna know what’s wrong with the world?
Everywhere there’s people with no flowers in their hair
Listen! To what the flower people say
Listen! It’s getting louder every day
Listen! It’s like a bolt out of the blue
Listen! It could be calling out for you
Flower people, walk on by
Flower people, don’t you cry
It’s not too late, no
It’s not too late…
For those who come to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair
If you come to San Francisco
Summertime will be a love-in there
San Francisco Bay,
Where my love and I did run away,
We were looking for another day,
But we couldn’t find the words to say…
San Francisco Bay,
All the flowers that we gave away,
Didn’t know our sky was turning gray,
We were so young in San Francisco Bay.
Don’t tell me
Of skies remaining gray
Speak to me of children’s hands
Locked tightly in play
After his fire
Winds chase higher
To serve his desire
Like notes from a lyre
Well I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this:
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Sing me no psalm, you’re not King David
Sing me no high, hushed “glory be”
Sing it to one, one of the broken
And brother, you’re singing, singing to me
Don’t sing love songs, you’ll wake my mother
She’s sleeping here right by my side
And in her right hand a silver dagger,
She says that I can’t be your bride.