The Art of Walking, 1980Go.Here's to the small things that give pleasure. Here's to the everyday things that bring a smile. My hands are complicated thoughts. My hands are complicated, but my feet just wanna go. Here's to the finer points that mean everything. Here's to the details that so often get overlooked: the way one day fades into another; the way simple desires get expressed (What's the bus that goes by here?) Here's to the best things. Here's to the things that give God pleasure. Here's to the things that make God smile. The small victories are big ones. And as one day fades to another, as the past fills up with failure, it all adds up. Writers: Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas-Thompson. © 1980 EMI Music (ROW), Bug Music / Music Language (US/Can). Lyrics by David Thomas. Rhapsody In Pink. I spent the day under the water, today. I was a big pink ball at the bottom of the sea, the broad green sea. The fish came and looked at me, looked at me at the bottom of the sea. There I was for all the fish to see, sitting on the yellow sand at the bottom of the sea, the broad green sea. The sea is a big, green lens. The birds looked down at me, sitting on the sand at the bottom of the sea, the broad green sea. And the waves rolled in, the waves rolled in, and I rolled in. The waves rolled out, and the waves rolled out. The waves rolled out and I rolled out. Back & forth, and back & forth at the bottom of the sea, the broad green sea. I spent the day under the water. I spent the night on the beach. I was beached. Beached! Then I got bleached. Bleached! Washed up. Bleached white as a bone. So... So, that's my story. Sad but true. (Let this be a lesson to you) Writers: Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas-Thompson. © 1980 EMI Music (ROW), Bug Music / Music Language (US/Can). Lyrics by David Thomas. Young Miles In The Basement. I wanna go home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home because... it's homey! I wanna go home. Writers: Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas-Thompson. © 1980 EMI Music (ROW), Bug Music / Music Language (US/Can). Lyrics by David Thomas. Misery Goats. Don't fret now. Don't be so tired. No mope, mope, mope-a-dope! No, it's not as bad as all of that. Don't be no misery goat! "How are ya?" "How are ya?" "How are ya?" I could cry. I could just cry. Oh, the tears fall down. (I've got one bright hope.) (I've got one ride home.) I sang three songs and marched around, marched around, marched around. I sang three songs and marched around. Looka here. Here comes the poetry! "I'm a cave with the wind inside." "I'm a shell with the sound of the surf inside!" What?! What's the point, hunh? Don't be no misery goat! (I've got one bright hope.) (I've got one ride home.) Writers: Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas-Thompson. © 1980 EMI Music (ROW), Bug Music / Music Language (US/Can). Lyrics by David Thomas. Loop. Are things clouds or clocks? What's a swarm of gnats got to do with a pile of rocks, with a pile of rocks? What have a bucket and a clean slate got in common? Let's go straight over. What are we waiting for? We should be able to get there easy. What are we waiting for? Let's go! Writers: Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas-Thompson. © 1980 EMI Music (ROW), Bug Music / Music Language (US/Can). Lyrics by Mayo Thompson. Rounder. I tore myself up inside. And I ripped everything out. It was a storm that went by. It had the sound of the winter wind. It had the sound of the frozen lake. I tore myself up inside. (Only the walls were left.) I tore myself up. (I'm a big success.) I could not feel. (I do a good job.) I could not feel. (I tear myself up inside.) Dumb luck. (Some excuse!) It works out that way. I heard the voice of reason. "Don't upset yourself." "Don't upset yourself." "Don't upset yourself." I heard the voice of reason. I didn't listen. (Yeah, I know it all.) I heard the voice of reason. Way far away. I tore myself up inside. And I ripped everything out. Only the walls were left. Then I looked around for something else to tear out. I reached deep! Writers: Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas-Thompson. © 1980 EMI Music (ROW), Bug Music / Music Language (US/Can). Lyrics by David Thomas. Birdies. I gotta get holda myself. I gotta pull myself up by my socks. I gotta grab myself by the collar and shake! The birdies are singing. The birdies are saying what I want to say. Now watch this close. (Oh, I should say 'closely.') Here we go! The foot goes up. And the foot goes down. And so I move along. And actually get somewhere, actually get somewhere. And when the feet, the big feet get tangled... Bang! And I fall down on the ground? Well, I get back up. I get right back up! A tree, a dog, a cat, a house, a car, fireplug, mailman. Dumpdee dump. Dumpdee da. Look at me! I've got my feet on the ground. And my head in the air. And I'm moving along. The wind's going through. And my hair's standing straight out behind. And I'm moving along. I'm standing up. And I'm going Some-Where. Writers: Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas-Thompson. © 1980 EMI Music (ROW), Bug Music / Music Language (US/Can). Lyrics by David Thomas. Lost In Art. Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! I want my shoes. And I'm gonna walk, walk, walk! Here I go. Listen to me! Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! I want it all. I want it all, now! Okay. Now, I'm gonna sing sweet. Now, I'm gonna sing pretty now. Ooaaaaaah-oooo-oo! I want more. I want my shoes. (Tie 'em for me please!) Watch me go. I can feel it. Uh. Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! I've sung my song. And I've beat my drum. I've sung my song. And I've beat my drum. Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! Hey, where's everybody going? Come back. Wait! Hey, I'm over here! I didn't mean it. Come back. I didn't mean it. Writers: Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas-Thompson. © 1980 EMI Music (ROW), Bug Music / Music Language (US/Can). Lyrics by David Thomas. Horses. In my heart, if that is where one feels, I surely feel your head lying back sending peals of laughter to ring a bell, the bell I ring to call you here to me. Telephone, telephone please bring me news when I'm alone. If it can be done I would be very grateful. Is that a horse, whose footsteps I hear approaching, on the run from some strange unknown danger, or just my heart beating so noisily? One never really knows until it's far too late to tell. It's the sun I wait for in the morning, and the moon I long to see setting in the evening. When night lies ahead, and day is through, I'll spend some time with you. Writer: Thompson. © 1980 Incomplete Music. Lyrics by Mayo Thompson. |