How Soon Is Now?

by Steven Morrissey

I am the son and the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular

You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way?
I am human, and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does

There's a club, if you'd like to go
You could meet somebody who really loves you
So you go, and you stand on your own
And you leave on your own
And you go home, and you cry, and you want to die

When you say it's gonna happen now
Well, when exactly do you mean?
See, I've already waited too long
And all my hope is gone

Stay Gold

by Johanna Söderberg

The sun shone high those few summer days
Left us in a soft wide-eyed haze
It shone like gold

But just as the moon, it shines straight
So dawn goes down today
No gold can stay

What if a hard work ends in despair?
What if the road won't take me there?
I wish, for once, it could stay gold
What if to love and be loved is not enough?
What if I fall and can't bear to get up?
I wish, for once, it could stay gold

We're on our way through rugged land
Top of that mountain we wanted to stand
With hearts of gold

But there is only forward — no other way
Tomorrow was your hope at the end of the day
And gold turns gray

All of my dreams, they fall and form a bridge
Of memories where I can't get back

Abide with Me

by Henry F. Lyte

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me.

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word;
But as thou dwell'st with thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing in thy wings,
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea—
Come, Friend of sinners, and thus bide with me.

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile;
And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left thee,
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.

I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

I'll Be Your Mirror

by Lou Reed

I'll be your mirror
Reflect what you are
In case you don't know
I'll be the wind
The rain and the sunset
The light on your door
To show that you're home

When you think the night has seen your mind
That inside you're twisted and unkind
Let me stand to show that you are blind
Please put down your hands
'Cause I see you

I find it hard
To believe you don't know
The beauty you are
But if you don't
Let me be your eyes
A hand in your darkness
So you won't be afraid

You Go to My Head

by Haven Gillespie

You go to my head
And you linger like a haunting refrain
And I find you spinning 'round in my brain
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

You go to my head
Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew
And I find the very mention of you
Like the kicker in a julep or two

The thrill of the thought
That you might give a thought
To my plea casts a spell over me
Still I say to myself
'Get a hold of yourself
'Can't you see that it can never be?'

You go to my head
With a smile that makes my temperature rise
Like a summer with a thousand Julys
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes

Though I'm certain that this heart of mine
Hasn't a ghost of a chance
In this crazy romance
You go to my head

P2 Vatican Blues

by George Harrison

Gazed at the ceiling from below
A splendid Michelangelo
Filled my heart with delight
Last Saturday night

Arrived believing from home
Climbed every step inside St. Peter's Dome
Claustrophobic and ex-Catholic
Last Saturday night

Now how come nobody really noticed
Puff of white smoke knocked me out?
The truth is hiding, lurking, banking
Things I do at night

It's quite suspicious to say the least
Even mentioned it to my local priest
One 'Our Father', three 'Hail Mary's
Each Saturday Night

I wish somebody would tell me
That it's only a show
I'll confess, own up, let's face it
In my concrete tuxedo

It's quite suspicious to say the least
While mentioning it to my priest
One 'Our Father', three 'Hail Mary's
Each Saturday night

The Waste Land (Pt. V)

[Part IV here]
by T.S. Eliot

V. What the Thunder Said

After the torch-light red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and place and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience

Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mud-cracked houses
                                        If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water

Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
—But who is that on the other side of you?

What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal

A woman drew her long black hair out tight
And fiddled whisper music on those strings
And bats with baby faces in the violet light
Whistled, and beat their wings
And crawled head downward down a blackened wall
And upside down in air were towers
Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours
And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the roof-tree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain
Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves
Waited for rain, while the black clouds
Gathered far distant, over Himavant.
The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
Then spoke the thunder
DA
Datta: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of prudence can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms
DA
Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
Only at nightfall, aetherial rumours
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus
DA
Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar
The sea was calm, your heart would have responded
Gaily, when invited, beating obedient
To controlling hands

                            I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?

London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down

Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina
Quando fiam ceu chelidon—O swallow swallow
Le Prince d'Aquitaine à la tour abolie
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo's mad againe.
Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.

        Shantih     shantih     shantih

Doubt Comes In

by Anaïs Mitchell

Doubt comes in and strips the paint
Doubt comes in and turns the wine
Doubt comes in and leaves a trace
Of vinegar and turpentine

Where are you?
Where are you now?

Doubt comes in and kills the lights
Doubt comes in and chills the air
Doubt comes in and all falls silent
It's as though you aren't there

Where are you?
Where are you now?

Orpheus, you're shivering
Is it cold or fear?
Just keep singing
The coldest night of the coldest year
Comes right before the spring

Doubt comes in with tricky fingers
Doubt comes in with fickle tongues
Doubt comes in and my heart falters
And forgets the songs it's sung

Where are you?
Where are you now?

Orpheus, hold on
Hold on tight
It won't be long
'Cause the darkest hour of the darkest night
Comes right before the dawn