hard-souled woman

[[ Soul or sole? The obvious ambiguity is intentional. It's a walking song about someone with hard shoes or hard feet (from walking) or a hard heart or any combination, but who can trust the persona? Maybe the "hard-souled woman" is bad, maybe the persona is bad, maybe both. Maybe she doesn't even know the persona exists or maybe they're married. Maybe the persona is a man or a woman: I like to imagine it being sung by a woman about a woman. ]]  

Hard-souled woman,

walking around my mind at night.

Hard-souled woman,

walking around my mind at night.

I know your sister

and your sister's all right,

But I've seen you walking 

and I've never seen a girl so tight.

Hard-souled woman,

out stepping in your best disguise.

Hard-souled woman,

out stepping in your best disguise.

I know your mama

and you've got your mama's eyes.

But I've seen you walking 

and you've got your own damn thighs.

You know you don't have to pay me one lick of attention.

You know you don't have to talk.

You know you don't have to stay for me one more damn second.

You know you know you know you know you can just walk.

Walking's what you're all about.
Walking's been good to you.

Hard-souled woman,

walking away.

Hard-souled woman,
walking away.

threading the eye of a needle

a mug of coffee

steaming on the front step 

striped pajamas

stooping to the news

three martinis

waiting at the airport

Sunday morning

is turning the screws

threading the eye of a needle

meanwhile, we're dying 

strapped in our cars  

the kids in the back

watching shooting stars

meanwhile, we're dying 

slumped in a chair  

leaving EMTs

to stroke the kid's hair

going out happy

surprise, surprise

look at daddy's eyes

look at mommy's eyes

threading the eye of a needle

dispossessed

[[ An ambiguous song about an ambiguous persona imagining a home he (could be she) used to know. Someone else is in the home now. A feeling of dispossession, real or imagined, some sort of revenge planned or fantasized. Fire and smoke imagery, maybe imagining the old chimney smoking, maybe imagining arson, maybe just a crazy phone call, maybe all in his head. The old phone is there for strangeness and to evoke an old time, dialing the number like a secret combination on a safe, with the phone's "cradle" doing double duty for imagery. Senses (taste and smell, fingers, warming, creaking) to introduce an uneasy nearness. And is he thinking of someone else (an invader? just a new owner) in his old home -- or is that "someone" just the persona sneaking back and creepily intruding in (calling on) his old home? It's coming from inside the house! Or not. ]]

smoke will be coiling

over our old home

sparks will be floating

floating on air

someone feels like he belongs now

in our old home

someone tastes the fruit still growing

in our garden

someone smells the flowers planted

by our mother

smoke will be coiling

over our old home

sparks will be floating

floating on air

someone opens creaking cupboards

in our kitchen

someone warms his chilly fingers

round our fire

someone feels like he belongs now

in our old home

now I am calling

dialing the rotary

my combination

into the past

lift the receiver

out of the cradle

lift the receiver

out of the past

fire will be burning

up through the blue air

sparks will be floating

floating on air

Magnetic Mountain

I saw a picture of 

Magnetic Mountain

hidden in smoke

a mountain of iron

city built under 

a mountain of iron

spin the clock backward

roll back the calendar

fix every compass on

Magnetic Mountain

mama blew the roof off

and everyone died

but the miracle child
but the miracle child
they found in the frost

climb the dark stairs

what's this bubbling 

up in my blood?

what's steaming

under the hood?

mother in the garden

fire in the kitchen 

mother in the garden

fire again

put down the pony 

frogs in the basement

neighbors on the party line

frogs in the well

lights in the drive

blue, red, and turning 

mother in the garden

something is burning

under the car at night

holding a torch for father

smell of spilled gasoline

orange of cigarette

smoke up the chimney

the game on teevee

twisting the aerial

pictures of snow

caught in the thunder

running in the rain 

wet camera jolting 

and jolting and jolting 

stories to 

sleep on

the dark and 

the bells

Nancy, Sikes,

Silver, Kim,

shipwrecked and 

kidnapped

and

climb the dark stairs

tempest and midsummer

salt and vinegar

the Russians in winter

alone in the woods

under the car at night

holding a torch for father

smell of spilled gasoline

orange of cigarette

mother in the garden

fire in the kitchen 

mother in the garden

fire again

stories to sleep on

climb the dark stairs

where lightning struck her

I met a woman

mostly hidden and cold

She's got a scar 

where lightning struck her

when she stopped growing old.

I met a woman,

life etched in her skin 

She's got a mark

where life ran out 

and the sickness got in.

but she could knock the paint off a saint

and she does

I met a woman

mostly cold and hidden

She's got a line 

you could talk right up to

but the rest is forbidden

fingertips on her skin

you trace her origin

here is the mother 

who beat her to hell

here is the father 

who loved her too well