Moon Window

world at the window washing all the songs away
world of a woman with its tides and lunatics,
might be time to lift your glassy eyes
feel something with your full moon gaze.
just a picture of the son's old age.
still, it can't be sung.

blind carpenter you built your house below this tide
and in the shadow of a mountain it gets no light,
though I'm sure it's fine if you treat your time like
it's set in a cemented line.
but necessarily there's nothing right 'cause I say that
it's right and you should treat your mind.
that precious skull in bind
all the cambie eyes for your secrets disguised.

and I, I'm just too young to be saying these things.
but all the weathered faces down by the river
dipped my hand in fresh water and I'm calm,
so see that light tells age,
and all the moon's tugging takes our ears away
and I'm just leaving 'cause I found that it ain't rationality
it's just the will to see.

sweet mother tell your daughter that her roots are yours
and that it is your own salt water that burns and makes them sore
and to transfer your dehydrated shore,
the moonless night and the american war.
all that oil for your cambie store don't you want more
don't you leave me with my dreams all gone.
how'd we get that wrong? well it's taking so long,
aren't you singing your song?

followed the river with a pocket full of booze.
all the roots looked like pipelines and fences and fences of schools.
enough money in my pocket for food, so I couldn't lose.
and the water made my body look like stone, so I grew.
the night was open and an owl guided my boots.
lord, the night was open and an owl showed me my roots.

came to a clearing in the moonless night,
all alone I smelled the air and I, I reached for my pipe
when I noticed that the motion of all was in sight.
we began our dance in silence but soon opened up our light
to the sound of our voice and we danced all night,
to the sound of our voice and we danced, lord we danced just right.

after a while I lost all sense of time and space
my mind is my body my body I succeed to extend
all of the gypsies soon arrived and took off their shoes
to rub their soles together, I laughed and I started to too.
oh but their feet but their feet were steel cork boots.
oh lord but their feet cut my feet and I had to leave that place too.


Copyright 2010 Benjamin Woods