Siren Song

by James Wilson

Two-tone flannel for a soul
Broken hearts and rock & roll
Wrap it around you, keep you from the cold
Four lanes and gravel
Heart strings unravel
Chase them down until you're old

So you bust out the headlights
And you break up the dog-fight
Don't you know that it's all in your mind?
Taking up your burden
With your skin still burning
Dragging your life across the sands of time

And the faces, they all look the same
As they scream out your name

And your heart, it screams to belong
But we live and die as we dream all alone
And I heard those sirens singing on FM radio
Darling, they won't let me go

Il est né le divin enfant

Traditional

Il est né le divin enfant,
Jouez hautbois, résonnez musettes!
Il est né le divin enfant,
Chantons tous son avènement!

Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous le promettaient les prophètes
Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous attendions cet heureux temps.

Ah! Qu'il est beau, qu'il est charmant!
Ah! que ses grâces sont parfaites!
Ah! Qu'il est beau, qu'il est charmant!
Qu'il est doux ce divin enfant!

Une étable est son logement
Un peu de paille est sa couchette,
Une étable est son logement
Pour un dieu quel abaissement!

Partez, grands rois de l'Orient!
Venez vous unir à nos fêtes
Partez, grands rois de l'Orient!
Venez adorer cet enfant!

Il veut nos cœurs, il les attend :
Il est là pour faire leur conquête
Il veut nos cœurs, il les attend :
Donnons-les lui donc promptement!

O Jésus! O Roi tout-puissant
Tout petit enfant que vous êtes,
O Jésus! O Roi tout-puissant,
Régnez sur nous entièrement!

The Long Division

by Elvis Costello
and Burt Bacharach

Did somebody try
To catch your eye
And almost change your sad expression?
Did somebody's hand
Linger too long?
Must I now make my confession?

But you'll never know
What suspicion is
Until you lie awake
And every night you ask yourself
'What am I to do?'
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two
There's nothing left over

How's it going to feel?
This time it's real
It's not a temporary fracture
This is what you get
The stage is set
For you and your attempted rapture

Is he going to smile
That indulgent smile
When you come running home?

What am I going to say?
You turn away
And you leave me here despairing
What am I going to do?
I look at you
You seem to be so long past caring

Did somebody say,
'Can we still be friends?'
Only to find out now
That it's a joke, so ask yourself
'What am I to do?'
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two
There's nothing left over

Let All Things Now Living

by Katherine K. Davis

Let all things now living a song of thanksgiving
To God the creator triumphantly raise.
Who fashioned and made us, protected and stayed us,
Who still guides us on to the end of our days.
God's banners are o'er us, His light goes before us,
A pillar of fire shining forth in the night.
Till shadows have vanished and darkness is banished
As forward we travel from light into light.

His law he enforces, the stars in their courses
And sun in its orbit obediently shine;
The hills and the mountains, the rivers and fountains,
The deeps of the ocean proclaim him divine.
We too should be voicing our love and rejoicing;
With glad adoration a Song let us raise
Till all things now living unite in thanksgiving:
'To God in the highest, Hosanna and praise!'

Incident on 57th Street

by Bruce Springsteen

Spanish Johnny drove in
From the underworld last night
With bruised arms and broken rhythm in a beat-up old Buick
But dressed just like dynamite
He tried selling his heart
To the hard girls over on Easy Street
But they sighed, 'Johnny it falls apart so easy
'And you know hearts these days are cheap'

And the pimps swung their axes
And said, 'Johnny, you're a cheater'
Well the pimps swung their axes
And said, 'Johnny, you're a liar'
And from out of the shadows came a young girl's voice
Saying, 'Johnny, don't cry'

Puerto Rican Jane
Won't you tell me what's your name?
I want to drive you down to the other side of town
Where paradise ain't so crowded
There'll be action going down on Shanty Lane tonight
All them golden-heeled fairies in a real bitch fight
Pull .38s and kiss the girls good night

Good night, it's all right, Jane
Now let them black boys in to light the soul flame
We may find it out on the street tonight, baby
Or we may walk until the daylight maybe

Well like a cool Romeo he made his moves
Oh, she looked so fine
Like a late Juliet she knew he'd never be true
But then she didn't really mind
Upstairs a band was playing, the singer was singing
Something about going home
She whispered, 'Spanish Johnny, you can leave me tonight
'But just don't leave me alone'

And Johnny cried, 'Puerto Rican Jane
'Word is down the cops have found the vein'
Oh all them barefoot boys, they left their homes for the woods
Them little barefoot street boys, they say homes ain't no good
They left the corners
Threw away all their switchblade knives
And kissed each other good-bye

Johnny was sitting on the fire escape
Watching the kids playing down the street
He called down, 'Hey little heroes, summer's long
'But I guess it ain't very sweet around here anymore'
Janey sleeps in sheets damp with sweat
Johnny sits up alone and watches her dream on
And the sister prays for lost souls
Then breaks down in the chapel after everyone's gone
Jane moves over to share her pillow
But opens her eyes to see Johnny up and putting his clothes on

She says, 'Those romantic young boys
'All they ever want to do is fight'
Those romantic young boys
They're calling through the window
'Hey Spanish Johnny, you want to make a little easy money tonight?'

And Johnny whispered, 'Good night, it's all tight, Jane'
I'll meet you tomorrow night on Lover's Lane
We may find it out on the street tonight, baby
Or we may walk until the daylight maybe

Attics of My Life

by Robert Hunter

In the attics of my life
Full of cloudy dreams unreal
Full of tastes no tongue can know
And lights no eye can see
        When there was no ear to hear
        You sang to me

I have spent my life
Seeking all that's still unsung
Bent my ear to hear the tune
And closed my eyes to see
        When there were no strings to play
        You played to me

In the book of love's own dream
Where all the print is blood
Where all the pages are my days
And all my lights grow old
        When I had no wings to fly
        You flew to me

You
flew
to me

In the secret space of dreams
Where I dreaming lay amazed
When the secrets all are told
And the petals all unfold
        When there was no dream of mine
        You dreamed of me

Butcher's Tale (Western Front 1914)

by Chris White

A butcher, yes that was my trade
But the King's shilling is now my fee
A butcher I may as well have stayed
For the slaughter that I see

And the preacher in his pulpit
Sermoned, 'Go and fight, do what is right'
But he don't have to hear these guns
And I bet he sleeps at night

And I can't stop shaking
My hands won't stop shaking
My arms won't stop shaking
My mind won't stop shaking
I want to go home
Please let me go home

And I have seen a friend of mine
Hang on the wire like some rag toy
Then in the heat the flies come down
And cover up the boy

And the flies come down in Gommecourt,
Thiepval, Mametz Wood, and French Verdun
If the preacher, he could see those flies
Wouldn't preach for the sound of guns

And I can't stop shaking
My hands won't stop shaking
My arms won't stop shaking
My mind won't stop shaking
I want to go home
Please let me go home