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about
this was Kurt's favorite song. We covered it and also played it live as our first song at our first concert. I think he wanted people to hear this. Of course this is unedited as a first take.
lyrics
standing on the Coastroad saying fine
girl she shout from a napalm fire
give me a little more time
make it just a one more line
but the light of the night
doesn’t hide you or give you shelter
make it five for the dive
take a ride on my helter skelter
you see her with girls in their scenes
what you say cannot alter your dreams
you see chains in an empty cage
you make out on a stony grave
you see skins making out
painting eyes of Jesus’ lover
but the signs only rhymes
meaning less than one and another
standing on the Coastroad . . .
it’s really quite simple, just takes a slow moon
assessing your reasons, they’re all twenty one
waking alone looking past the window
in the dead land, silent song birds, april lilacs
august cacti fail to grow
on the headstone grave no reassuring words
leaning together waiting for the rain
in the dead land only thunder pierces roots
and summer’s bringing burning pain
in your time you’ll find no shelter for your fear
turning turn turned turning over
, in the flood the only bird to prowl
, for a leaf is the Winter Owl
, the White Winter Owl
twenty one past years are over
, from the stone a strangely silent howl
, it’s the time of the Winter Owl
, the White Winter Owl
shadows strange stirred flying over
, stable born its time at last come round
, flies to you for its future now
, the White Winter Owl
broken eyes are seeing only cages
in the dead land, catching flying
starlight sighing Jesus’ children fail to age
on your headstone grave, no Human hands
no Human cries, no Human signs . . .
o the days of haze are over now
you can see quite clearly down the road
the highway out of here is lined with trees
and hiding the overblown
the highway leads to a spinney
where the path is Humanstone
and in the shade stands naked thinking
and in the shade it’s overgrown
do lap the milk that we set before you
do take a drink from thy golden bowl
know that the valley it is filled with teardim
know that your heart it is overflowed
do take a heart to the lonely village
take a good look at the restless world
hands can’t hold it and your mind is swimming
tell us all about it, tell us every word
and we’ll do what we can do . . .
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