fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
your choice at corners made each turn so close
we could not see the ending when it came
to explain or suffer none could diagnose
your choice at corners made each turn so close

dismal the onslaught of those so verbose
seeking to tell us when the beast was tame
your choice at corners made each turn so close
we could not see the ending when it came

at the beginning nothing was the same
but heresy declared that law was wild
the truer justice took on all the blame
at the beginning nothing was the same

given or taken all they had was name
of honest servant no one was reviled
at the beginning nothing was the same
but heresy declared that law was wild

no simpler form of vision hot or mild
declared by champions in the open field
those who on the dull loser then had piled
no simpler form of vision hot or mild

the parent is not present in the child
nor is the one who understands the yield
no simpler form of vision hot or mild
declared by champions in the open field

a kind of anger to us had appealed
with which our larger income to engross
the edge provides us with no certain shield
a kind of anger to us had appealed

no one had come before the throne and kneeled
although we thought ourselves most grandiose
a kind of anger to us had appealed
with which our larger income to engross

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
a flame that flickers under the last glass
so much is heard of what we thought we knew
the choice was made to halt and not to pass
a flame that flickers under the last glass

all of the windows look out on the grass
and not one person pauses for the view
a flame that flickers under the last glass
so much is heard of what we thought we knew

as for the ones who told us they were through
we gave them what they asked for and they sang
not any music that had been made new
as for the ones who told us they were through

on a cold morning we might feel the dew
as having both a coldness and a tang
as for the ones who told us they were through
we gave them what they asked for and they sang

the door that closed has made the loudest clang
and frightened those who would have slept the night
the angry are awakened by the bang
the door that closed has made the loudest clang

the loser has been bitten by the fang
and given up without thought of a fight
the door that closed has made the loudest clang
and frightened those who would have slept the night

those who would speak have given up the right
they handed you the gold and kept the brass
knowing their options had become but slight
those who would speak had given up the right

the world is written up in black and white
and laws define the power of ruling class
those who would speak have given up the right
they handed you the gold and kept the brass

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
there is a way to measure the true force
that brings us home and gives us honest hope
of sunset pleasure by the watercourse
there is a way to measure the true force

the better way is neither rough nor coarse
we walk uphill as others run downslope
there is a way to measure the true force
that brings us home and gives us honest hope

there's never choice we always have to cope
with all the errors that you could commit
as through the murk you foolishly might grope
there's never choice we always have to cope

we've never let ourselves have all the rope
we'd need to drag our hearts out of the shit
there's never choice we always have to cope
with all the errors that you could commit

it's always down to where you want to sit
while all the colours fade into the dark
we drag ourselves out of the deepest pit
it's always down to where you want to sit

the answer's never given with due wit
we see the tree's flesh underneath the bark
it's always down to where you want to sit
while all the colours fade into the dark

we reach the height and there we make our mark
about our actions there's been no remorse
no record's kept by interfering clerk
we reach the height and there we make our mark

the place we left becomes some sort of park
all anger and all hatred we'll divorce
we reach the height and there we make our mark
about our actions there's been no remorse

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 symbols and drums behind the working band
our sort of people cannnot find their place
there's not a thing that comes swifter to hand
symbols and drums behind the working band

we find ourselves upon no golden strand
lacking in life true speed and honest grace
symbols and drums behind the working band
our sort of people cannot find their place

honour and joy reflected in each face
given the purpose who would flee the cause
shoes will fall off if you don't tie the lace
honour and joy reflected in each face

we're not the ones who occupy the space
and then complain of all the chinks and flaws
honour and joy reflected in each face
given the purpose who would flee the cause

well ended each awaits the rich applause
deserved by those who beautify the air
in deepest winter we might fear the thaws
well ended each awaits the rich applause

choosing to hate the ones who write the laws
cupboards and minds both turn out to be bare
well ended each awaits the rich applause
deserved by those who beautify the air

we feel the cold when blinded by the glare
the message has to pass from hand to hand
who does not speak must still announce his care
we feel the cold when blinded by the glare

the drums are sounded in the village square
silence will flee the lion-haunted land
we feel the cold when blinded by the glare
the message has to pass from hand to hand

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 
silence and music in our hearts combine
to give us what we think we most desire
the cords that bind each life may now entwine
silence and music in our hearts combine

the truth is what we can no more refine
the thing that most resists our constant ire
silence and music in our hearts combine
to give us what we think we most desire

each one of us will travel through the fire
to find the place where we'll be safe when old
but not a one can meet what you require
each one of us will travel through the fire

to some such revelry we might aspire
should we truly become the brave and bold
each one of us will travel through the fire
to find the place where we'll be safe when old

nothing that happens could have been foretold
the prince won't meet the maiden at the ball
nor will the ugly sisters laugh and scold
nothing that happens could have been foretold

we have no courage against rain and cold
the thinnest ice will lead us each to sprawl
nothing that happens could have been foretold
the prince won't meet the maiden at the ball

we are too nervous ever to stand tall
nor are we gracious when you cross the line
somebody thinks that we are on the ball
we are too nervous ever to stand tall

we learn no lesson from the greatest fall
each turns aside to drink the beer and wine
we are too nervous ever to stand tall
nor are we gracious when you cross the line

more light

Nov. 2nd, 2007 05:14 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 more light won't make another thing as clear
as this calm moment in the dappled shade
we have good sense abundant and to spare
more light won't make another thing as clear

you're not so certain that we just won't dare
to enter into spaces you have made
more light won't make another thing as clear
as this calm moment in the dappled shade

there's no one here who has not made the grade
your hearts lie open to the whole world's sight
we have to call a spade a blooming spade
there's no one here who has not made the grade

not one of you has yet come to our aid
you laugh at seeing our disgusting plight
there's no one here who has not made the grade
your hearts lie open to the whole world's plight

each law we make requires that things be right
before we act to set all bricks in line
the rules we make distinguish day from night
each law we make requires that things be right

a single word is taken for a slight
we see each action as a sort of sign
each law we make requires that things be right
before we act to set all bricks in line

you are not asked to make pure or refine
but only to be sensible and care
truth and the lie in every heart entwine
you are not asked to make pure or refine

reality must serve to undermine
the castles that have been built in the air
you are not asked to make pure or refine
but only to be sensible and care
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

 no part of this may come into plain sight
we keep the secrets under lock and key
it does not matter if we're wrong or right
no part of this may come into plain sight

we blame all failures on your hate and spite
your proper place is upon your naked knee
no part of this may come into plain sight
we keep the secrets under lock and key

what none of us can ever sense or see
must be kept hidden from the normal eye
instead we'll say that everyone is free
what none of us can ever sense or see

the villain hangs from the appointed tree
like many others he would aim too high
what none of us can ever sense or see
must be kept hidden from the normal eye

we know the measures that we must apply
they are indentical in sun and rain
you think that you are being slick and sly
we know the measures that we must apply

all that you want will surely go awry
that is to us most obvious and plain
we know the measures that we must apply
they are identical in sun and rain

our stuff is smooth enough to withstand stain
our eyes are sweetly clear and our thoughts bright
we get just what we asked for in the main
our stuff is smooth enough to withstand stain

you think you are the ones who have the brain
but you are going under in the night
our stuff is smooth enough to withstand stain
our eyes are sweetly clear and our thoughts bright

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
all that is known ends at a wavy line
the boundary of truth and of the lie
we hear the angry and the happy whine
all that is known ends at a wavy line

we wrap the package up in baling twine
that's how we've done it and we don't ask why
all that is known ends at a wavy line
the boundary of truth and of the lie

the answer will not come down from the sky
we ask and ask and only get a stone
we make the effort we still have to try
the answer will not come down from the sky

the dove has died and nothing now will fly
in this large multitude each stands alone
the answer will not come down from the sky
we ask and ask and only get a stone

for others' crimes we've got now to atone
there's nothing left for us to understand
in the far distance all the bombers drone
for others' crimes we've now got to atone

beneath warm skin is cold and brittle bone
the signal is not what had once been planned
for others' crimes we've now got to atone
there's nothing left for us to understand

the speeches have become more flat and bland
intended just to subtly undermine
the ones who'd dare to take a solo stand
the speeches have become more flat and bland

there's only dust left for the grasping hand
dust and the fading scent of burning pine
the speeches have become more flat and bland
intended just to subtly undermine
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
a means of understanding we won't get
from all our efforts and for all we try
the course we travel long ago was set
a means of understanding we won't get

the rule it seems is for worry and fret
yet every tear is frozen in the eye
a means of understanding we won't get
from all our efforts and for all we try

no magic we might have could let us fly
beyond the limits of our earthly place
we're doomed to live so far below the sky
no magic we might have could let us fly

a sort of truth requires that we must die
and vanish and become no more than space
no magic we might have could let us fly
beyond the limits of our earthly place

when we are done we find that we can trace
the roots of rivers to the mountain's feet
the answer that we seek shall come apace
when we are done we find that we can trace

we never shall behold an honest face
nor with the open-hearted will we meet
when we are done we find that we can trace
the roots of rivers to the mountain's feet

the ones who come we will not even greet
an answer may be given but not yet
a single ship won't signify a fleet
the ones who come we will not ever meet

each one is paralysed in their own seat
at least that's how we ought to place the bet
the ones who come we will not even greet
an answer may be given but not yet

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
shadows all vanish into blurry sun
the world's been shrunk into a single need
duty we're told is work and never fun
shadows all vanish into blurry sun

silence rejects the sounds of bomb and gun
there's never reason for a soul to bleed
shadows all vanish into blurry sun
the world's been shrunk into a single need

the truest propaganda's still the deed
our hopes are focused on no other task
but quieting the anger and the greed
the truest propaganda's still the deed

each harvest is inherent in the seed
a single grape will turn into a cask
the truest propaganda's in the deed
our hopes are focused on no other task

behind the face there's still another mask
no smile is true until the sun has set
in torrid sun there is not place to bask
behind the face there's still another mask

each of us empties the expected flask
no one permits occasions of regret
behind the face there's still another mask
no smile is true until the sun has set

we aren't permitted simply to forget
nor are our weapons ever set to stun
fishes escape the inexperienced net
we aren't permitted simply to forget

the rule we're given turns into a bet
that we will not our saddest chances shun
we aren't permitted simply to forget
nor are our weapons ever set to stun

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
each lovely echo of far sound delights
ears are ecstatic as the music flows
into the mind flow many eerie sights
each lovely echo of far sound delights

forgotten now are all the slurs and slights
they're banished far by the first horn that blows
each lovely echo of far sound delights
ears are ecstatic as the music flows

the winning one is never one that shows
all of its tricks within a few short beats
its summer but we see the sudden snows
the winning one is never one that shows

hugely attentive to the highs and lows
beauty all ugliness for now defeats
the winning one is never one that shows
all of its tricks within a few short beats

we're wistful wondering held in our seats
by every trill of clarinet or flute
measure with joy in broken silence meets
we're wistful wondering held in our seats

far from us all the turmoil of the streets
while listening we're firm and resolute
we're wistful wondering held in our seats
by every trill of clarinet or flute

each knowing the most dim and dismal brute
would by this healing sound be set to rights
the need for satisfaction's most acute
each knowing the most dim and dismal brute

here there is peace and absence of pursuit
wolves are not wild and woeful in these nights
each knowing the most dim and dismal brute
would by this healing sound be set to rights

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
you make the rules but cannot make them stick
many refuse the laws that you enact
the temple's made of mud and not of brick
you make the rules but cannot make them stick

a little elbow grease won't do the trick
no one believes the need to be exact
you make the rules but cannot make them stick
many refuse the laws that you enact

it's not a dispute over truth or fact
your power's a thing of magic and of chance
the world's not written like a simple tract
it's not a dispute over truth or fact

you wait and others just cannot react
in all the ways you want them to advance
it's not a dispute over truth or fact
your power's a thing of magic and of chance

around the fields you watch the young ones prance
there's none apart from you who will say nay
they do not give you a mere backward glance
around the fields you watch the young ones prance

there's something missing when you join the dance
but what it is not one of us will say
around the fields you watch the young ones prance
there's none apart from you who will say nay

in joining with us when we praise the day
you give your noble hand an angry flick
as if to deny we share the same clay
in joining with us when you praise the day

you want to leave you never want to stay
fearing that we your vaunted pride will nick
in joining with us when we praise the day
you give your noble hand an angry flick

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
when we begin we seek the afterglow
the light of a banked fire in every eye
we're ruthless in the swell and in the flow
when we begin we seek the afterglow

in deepest summer we desire the snow
we're fearful of the dark and lowering sky
when we begin we seek the afterglow
the light of a banked fire in every eye

not now to envy the fresh young and spry
do we require that they pass every test
from mountain to the rivers running by
not now to envy the fresh young and spry

all power of magic resides in the lie
that we accept and colour as a jest
not now to envy the fresh young and spry
do we require that they pass every test

this world we face requires both vim and zest
to smile when we would rather choose to glower
to accept mere good rather than just and best
this world we face requires both vim and zest

to have to move when each would want to rest
is the condition of the urgent hour
this world we face requires both vim and zest
to smile when we would rather choose to glower

at once to move and stay in the safe tower
we have to choose and still we want to know
whether our love remains warm in the bower
at once to move and stay in the safe tower

all in the end comes down to will and power
the need and the desire to make things so
at once to move and stay in the safe tower
we have to choose and still we want to know

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
we're not yet going to toe the line
those are the things we most do show
a host of powers both human and divine
we're not yet going to toe the line

we hope to hear the furies whine
when we have reached where they can't go
we're not yet going to toe the line
those are the things we most do show

the journey's neither fast nor slow
each drop of rain has said its piece
the gutters with fresh water flow
the journey's neither fast nor slow

we hope for a more earnest glow
before we reach the point of ease
the journey's neither fast nor slow
each drop of rain has said its piece

we know we're standing at the crease
waiting to hit the next straight ball
the game's like life it won't yet cease
we know we're standing at the crease

the rules we have can't keep the peace
nothing we've had prevents the fall
we know we're standing at the crease
waiting to hit the next straight ball

who knows just where we hear the call
nor how we tell the coarse from fine
myriads of voices fill each hall
who knows just where we hear the call

what matters is that we stand tall
not bending when we near the shrine
who knows just where we hear the call
nor how we tell the coarse from fine

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

the hosts that come with ineffectual grace
to conquer places best left to their own
have not a proper sense of time and place
the hosts that come with ineffectual grace

we know that earth's an island in dark space
and all around it lies a vast unknown
the hosts that come with ineffectual grace
to conquer places best left on their own

flowers we know have raised their heads and blown
a vision comes and lets its children smile
all of our virtues rest in what's been shown
flowers we know have raised their heads and blown

the gardener knows best just what's been sown
the seeds will turn to plants in a short while
flowers we know have raised their heads and blown
a vision comes and lets its children smile

against the darkest choices we'll resile
needs that we measure are not truest needs
the urgencies we've learned fill up a pile
against the darkest choices we'll resile

if we reject the anger and the bile
we'll find that balance nominates the deeds
against the darknest choices we'll resile
needs that we measure are not truest needs

each gardener knows best how to kill weeds
the sun shines forth on every noble face
anger we learn only destruction breeds
each gardener knows best how to kill weeds

life in its usual way bubbles and bleeds
the emissaries return to their own base
each gardener knows best how to kill weeds
the sun shines forth on every noble face

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
under the heavy sky a clearer sight
the weight of air can set the spirit free
we hope for justice not for might
under the heavy sky a clearer sight

praise now the gentle quality of light
the way it softens every leaf and tree
under the heavy sky a a clearer sight
the weight of air can set the spirit free

we want the world to mean as well as be
a weight of thought within the heavy air
the sort of thing that all the wise may see
we want the world to mean as well as be

we face the morning and we bend the knee
honour and mercy are a joyful pair
we want the world to mean as well as be
a weight of thought within the heavy air

the matter is that we can't truly dare
to think as heavy all the weight of light
the rules as we have learned them are not fair
the matter is that we can't truly dare

we know that we can never give up care
the world is always spoiling for a fight
the matter is that we can't truly dare
to think as heavy all the weight of light

we are not caught in any nasty plight
powers are not dispelled by mere decree
a rule is made within the power of right
we are not caught in any nasty plight

at the last end there is a sweeter light
the river flows in happiness to sea
we are not caught in any nasty plight
powers are not dispelled by mere decree

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