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I wrote this while playing at a club called The Nightshade Cafe. It describes the scene before you as you sing from the stage mixed with other impressions from the imagination

lyrics

Before us the owls, so loudly they sleep
In silken avalanche and circumspection
They twist and they turn, full circle with the churn
Of masquerading saints in introspection
Queen Anne's lace, Promethean grace
In the shadowed sideshows
Pyramid's pace in painted face
To the twilight temptress' doze

And the dying giving breath to pale visions they have left
Their buildings float in mist, eclipsed by your kiss

Injury from without and welfare from within
O subterranean prince of discontentment
Still your eyes they shine through the tears and the wine
To the drops of dancing rain upon the river
Your Parisian subway songs and looks that look at nothing at all
The golden clocks that coldly stair from shelves of miasmal cares

Devoured by the wolves, one heart has gone to rest
Friends betraying friends, the lies have done their best

So safely within the bounds of tradition he will seek
Revenge upon your body and your soul
And that restless wanting that no language can explain
Finds him trying on old Sunday clothes
For the goddess of reason exterminating rum with social disease
In the name of modern man the general welfare is deceased

And the dying giving breath to pale visions they have left
Their buildings float in mist, eclipsed by your kiss

credits

from Bruce Piephoff & Scott Sawyer Live at the dotmatrix project, released August 24, 2010
Written by Bruce Piephoff

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Bruce Piephoff & Scott Sawyer Greensboro, North Carolina

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