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View Diary: Books Go Boom!   Bob Dylan's Birthday: Are Rock Lyrics Poetry? (243 comments)

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  •  Sorry! No wonder the words are different (6+ / 0-)

    Here is the correct song to the words above...there are two versions of Listen to the Warm.

    I do like the other one, too.

    http://www.youtube.com/...

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    by cfk on Fri May 24, 2013 at 08:51:34 PM PDT

    [ Parent ]

    •  It has a lot of soul to it. And it hits my (7+ / 0-)

      sweet spot - I'm always ready to explore the smudged gray horizon, balanced between a seaful of sorrow and a skyful of hope.

      I know what you mean, of course you hear the voice even when you read the words alone. There's a point to looking for the best lyrics. But the more I do it, the more I feel like I'm looking at black-and-white reproductions of great paintings. The music and the words were made to knit together. I guess the main value I'm finding here is, it's interesting to see how good different writers are at this one side of their art, and it's surprising that many words are better or worse than I'd ever have guessed, before I looked at them in silence.

      I have many favorite songs that live on that gray horizon. But this one, though quite unlike yours, seems somehow to respond to it: Here's David Sylvian, with Let the Happiness in.

      Thanks for stopping by, cfk, and have a good weekend.

      "Every man has a right to utter what he thinks truth" Samuel Johnson

      by Brecht on Fri May 24, 2013 at 09:55:57 PM PDT

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      •  Love those gray horizons, too! (4+ / 0-)

        Their liminality opens great spaces for exploration.  Tom Waits' Cold, Cold Ground is a favorite of mine for that reason.  On their own, the lyrics paint a picture of ugly, isolationist deprivation, but Tom's genius is in setting them against a warm, sweet, "couples'-dancing" melody that argues with the words and creates that liminal space.   http://www.youtube.com/...

        Crest fallen sidekick in an old cafe
        never slept with a dream before he had to go away
        there's a bell in the tower
        Uncle Ray bought a round
        don't worry about the army
        in the cold cold ground
        now don't be a cry baby
        when there's wood in the shed
        there's a bird in the chimmney
        and a stone in my bed
        when the road's washed out
        they pass the bottle around
        and wait in the arms
        of the cold cold ground
        cold cold ground
        there's a ribbon in the willow
        and a tire swing rope
        and a briar patch of berries
        takin over the slope
        the cat'll sleep in the mailbox
        and we'll never go to town
        til we bury every dream in
        the cold cold ground
        cold cold ground
        gimme a Winchester rifle and a whole box of shells
        blow the roof off the goat barn
        let it roll down the hill
        the piano is firewood
        times square is a dream
        I find we'll lay down together in the cold cold ground
        cold cold ground
        cold cold ground
        call the cops on the Breedloves
        bring a bible and a rope
        and a whole box of rebel
        and a bar of soap
        make a pile of trunk tires
        and burn 'em all down
        bring a dollar with you baby
        in the cold cold ground
        cold cold ground
        take a weathervane rooster
        throw rocks at his head
        stop talking to the neighbors
        til we all go dead
        beware of my temper
        and the dog that I've found
        break all the windows in the
        cold cold ground
        cold cold ground
        •  What a lovely excursion! Yes, brutal lyrics with a (2+ / 0-)
          Recommended by:
          RiveroftheWest, Monsieur Georges

          lilting reel behind them. And such poetry:

          there's a ribbon in the willow
          and a tire swing rope
          and a briar patch of berries
          takin over the slope
          the cat'll sleep in the mailbox
          and we'll never go to town
          til we bury every dream in
          the cold cold ground
          Tom Waits is so prolific, he's hard to keep up with. I love how he started near the mainstream, and evolved so far from there. He took a wise left turn at Swordfishtrombones and never looked back; now he's invented a grid of his own.

          Thanks for the lyrics and the link - I enjoyed both with my morning coffee. Well, the first cup of it.

          "Every man has a right to utter what he thinks truth" Samuel Johnson

          by Brecht on Sat May 25, 2013 at 09:45:15 AM PDT

          [ Parent ]

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