"Rainbow Blues"

Through northern lights on back streets
I told the coachman, "Just drive me on,
It's the same old destination
but a different world to sing upon."
So he threw back his head and he counted.
I jumped out about five to nine.

And I waved at the stage door-keeper
said, "Mister, get me to the stage on time."
Oh, but the rain wasn't made of water
and the snow didn't have a place in the sun
so I slipped behind a rainbow

and waited till the show had done.

I packed my ammunition.
Inside the crowd was shouting, "Encore",

But I had a most funny feeling
it wasn't me they were shouting for.
So when the tall dark lady smiled at me
I said, "Oh, baby let us go for a ride."
And we came upon two drinks or four
and popped them oh so neatly inside.

Oh, but the rain wasn't made of water
and the snow didn't have a place in the sun
so we slipped behind a rainbow
and lay there until we had done.

Let me pack you deep in my suitcase.
Oh, there's sure to be room for two
or you can drive me to the airplane

"Glory Row"

Rise up all you fine young ladies and take arms for the show.
Oh, we'll put your name up in lights,
put you down on Glory Row.
Would you be the star of ages
to light your own way at night?
Might be a former beauty queen with your high smile stuck on so tightly.
They come and they go down on Glory Row.
It's the same old story --- yes, it the same old show.

Well, hello all you gentlemen, I fear I'm a lot like you.
We're wearing the same school tie but a different pair of shoes.
How did you get to be who you are?
Will your children share the blame?
Is it really worth the time it takes
to carve your name on Glory Row?

Down on Glory Row.
It's the same old story --- yes, it the same old show.

"Saturation"

They left me, leaving my house on fire, me running round - got out through the window.
While clinging to the skirts of fate was not my idea of fun; I'll jump to it gladly.
The town was filled with smoke and hate.
Came to my senses just too late
to realize that all I ever owned
was borrowed. I thanked them for having shown
me that nothing ever really belongs to anyone.

They burned my books and they broke my car,
and gave the dog to a man who used him for breeding.
They felled my trees and they tramped flowers
and threw the kitten into my new pool.
The same things done to other men had made them run away from the city.

spent the night with these new friends.

The town was filled with smoke and hate.
Came to my senses just too late
to realize that all I ever owned
was borrowed. I thanked them for having shown
me that nothing ever really belongs to anyone.

"Minstrel In The Gallery"

The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the
smiling faces.
He met the gazes --- observed the spaces between the
old men's cackle.
He brewed a song of love and hatred --- oblique
suggestions --- and he waited.
He polarized the pumpkin-eaters --- static-humming
panel-beaters --- freshly day-glow'd factory cheaters
(salaried and collar-scrubbing).
He titillated men-of-action --- belly warming, hands
still rubbing on the parts they never mention.
He pacified the nappy-suffering, infant-bleating
one-line jokers --- T.V. documentary makers
(overfed and undertakers).
Sunday paper backgammon players --- family-scarred
and women-haters.
Then he called the band down to the stage and he

looked at all the friends he'd made.

The minstrel in the gallery looked down on the
rabbit-run.
And threw away his looking-glass - saw his face in
everyone.

"Cold Wind To Valhalla"

And ride with us young bonny lass ---
with the angels of the night.
Crack wind clatter --- flesh rein bite on an out-size
unicorn.
Rough-shod winging sky blue flight on a cold wind
to Valhalla.
And join with us please --- Valkyrie maidens cry
above the cold wind to Valhalla.
Break fast with the gods. Night angels serve
with ice-bound majesty.
Frozen flaking fish raw nerve ---
in a cup of silver liquid fire.
Moon jet brave beam split ceiling swerve and light
the old Valhalla.
Come join with us please --- Valkyrie maidens cry
above the cold wind to Valhalla.
The heroes rest upon the sighs of Thor's trusty
hand maidens.
Midnight lonely whisper cries,
``We're getting a bit short on heroes lately.''
Sword snap fright white pale goodbyes in the
desolation of Valhalla.
And join with us please --- Valkyrie maidens ride
empty-handed on the cold wind to Valhalla.

"Black Satin Dancer"

Come, let me play with you, black satin dancer.
In all your giving, given is the answer.
Tearing life from limb and looking sweeter than the
brightest flower in my garden.
Begging your pardon --- shedding right unreason.
Over sensation fly the fleeting seasons.
Thin wind whispering on broken mandolin.
Bending the minutes --- the hours ever turning on that
old gold story of mercy.
Desperate breathing. Tongue nipple-teasing.
Your fast river flowing --- your northern fire fed.
Come, black satin dancer, come softly to bed.

"One White Duck / 0^{10} = Nothing At All"

There's a haze on the skyline, to wish me on my way.
And there's a note on the telephone --- some roses on a
tray.
And the motorway's stretching right out to us all,
as I pull on my old wings --- one white duck
on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
I'll catch a ride on your violin --- strung upon your bow.
And I'll float on your melody --- sing your chorus soft
and low.
There's a picture-view postcard to say that I called.
You can see from the fireplace, one white duck
on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?

So fly away Peter and fly away Paul --- from the
finger-tip ledge of contentment.
The long restless rustle of high-heeled boots calls.