1. From A Dusty Bookshelf
2. All That Great Heart Lying Still
The nightingale is still locked in the cage
The deep breath I took still poisons my lungs
An old oak sheltering me from the blue
Sun bathing on its dead frozen leaves
A catnap in the ghost town of my heart
She dreams of storytime and the river ghosts
Of mermaids, of Whitman’s and the Ride
Raving harlequins, gigantic toys
A song of me a song in need
Of a courageous symphony
A verse of me a verse in need
Of a pure-heart singing me to peace
All that great heart lying still and slowly dying
All that great heart lying still on an angel wing
All that great heart lying still
In silent suffering
Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end
What is left for encore
Is the same old Dead Boy’s song
Sung in silence
All that great heart lying still and slowly dying
All that great heart lying still on an angelwing
A midnight flight into Covington Woods
A princess and a panther by my side
These are Territories I live for
I’d still give my everything to love you more
3. Piano Black
A silent symphony
A hollow opus #1,2,3
Sometimes the sky is piano black
Piano black over cleansing waters
Resting pipes, verse of bore
Rusting keys without a door
Sometimes the within is piano black
Piano black over cleansing waters
All that great heart lying still and slowly dying
All that great heart lying still on an angel wing
4. Love
I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street, with a begging bowl in his shaking hand.
Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices.
I do, but walk by.
An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic.
It’s half-light and he’s in tears.
When he finally comes his eyes are cascading.
I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me.
All pride has left his wild drooling eyes.
I wish I had my leg to spare.
A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars.
She’s never loved him more.
An obese girl enters an elevator with me.
All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck.
Terribly sweet perfume deafens me.
She’s going to dinner alone.
That makes her even more beautiful.
I see a model’s face on a brick wall.
A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill.
A city that worships flesh.
The 1st thing I ever heard was a wandering man telling his story
It was you, the grass under my bare feet
The campfire in the dead of the night
The heavenly black of sky and sea
It was us
Roaming the rainy roads, combing the gilded beaches
Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn
Bathing in places no-one’s seen before
Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island
Clad in nothing but the surf – beauty’s finest robe
Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature
In early air of the dawn of life
A sight to silence the heavens
I want to travel where life travels, following its permanent lead
Where the air tastes like snow music
Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden
I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture
I would bathe in a world of sensation
Love, Goodness, and Simplicity
( While violated and imprisoned by technology )
The thought of my family’s graves was the only moment I used to experience true love
That love remains infinite, as I’ll never be the man my father is
How can you “just be yourself” when you don’t know who you are?
Stop saying “I know how you feel”
How could anyone know how another feels?
Who am I to judge a priest, beggar, whore, politician, wrongdoer?
I am, you are, all of them already
Dear child, stop working, go play
Forget every rule
There’s no fear in a dream
“Is there a village inside this snowflake?”
– a child asked me
“What’s the color of our lullaby?”
I’ve never been so close to truth as then
I touched its silver lining
Death is the winner in any war
Nothing noble in dying for your religion
For your country
For ideology, for faith
For another man, yes
Paper is dead without words
Ink idle without a poem
All the world dead without stories
Without love and disarming beauty
Careless realism costs souls
Ever seen the Lord smile?
All the care for the world made Beautiful a sad man?
Why do we still carry a device of torture around our necks?
Oh, how rotten your pre-apocalypse is
All you bible-black fools living over nightmare ground
I see all those empty cradles and wonder
If man will ever change
I, too, wish to be a decent manboy but all I am
Is smoke and mirrors
Still given everything, may I be deserving
And there forever remains that change from G to Em
Prevod pesme
Pesma o meni
1. Sa jedne prašnjave police za knjige
2. Celo to veliko srce mirno leži
Slavuj je još zaključan u kavezu
Vazduh koji sam duboko udahnuo još mi truje pluća
Jedan stari hrast štitio me od plavetnila
Sunčajući svoje zaleđeno mrtvo lišće
Kratak san u gradu duhova moga srca
Ona sanja priče i rečne duhove
sirena, o Vitmanu i njegovom putovanju
Ludim harlekinima, džinovskim lutkama
Pesma o meni, pesma kojoj nedostaje
neka hrabra simfonija
Strofa o meni, strofa kojoj fali
neko čisto srce da me pesmom umiri
Celo to veliko srce mirno leži i lagano umire
Celo to veliko srce mirno leži na krilu anđela
Celo to veliko srce mirno leži
u tihoj patnji
Smeškajući se kao klovn do kraja šoua
Ono što je ostalo za bis
je ona stara pesma Mrtvog dečaka
u tišini pevana
Celo to veliko srce mirno leži i lagano umire
Celo to veliko srce mirno leži na krilu anđela
Ponoćni let u Kovintonsku šumu
Pored mene jedna princeza i jedan panter
Ovo su teritorije za koje živim
I dalje bih dao sve što imam da mogu da te volim više
3. Klavir crna
Nema simfonija
Prazan opus #1,2,3
Nebo je ponekad klavir crno
Klavir crno nad vodama svetim
Frule odmaraju, strofe dosađuju
Ključevi bez vrata rđaju
Ponekad je unutra klavir crna
Klavir crna preko svete vode
Celo to veliko srce mirno leži i lagano umire
Celo to veliko srce mirno leži na krilu anđela
4. Ljubav
Vidim jednog zaostalog, prostog dečaka u prometnoj ulici, sa prosjačkom zdelom u drhtavoj ruci.
Pokušava da se osmehuje ali beskrajno je povređen. Niko ne primećuje.
Ja primećujem ali produžim.
Jedan starac se skine go i ljubi lutku na svom tavanu.
Polumrak je a on u suzama je.
Kad napokon svrši, suze mu liju.
Vidim nekog prebijenog psa u jednoj smrdljivoj uličici. Pokuša da me ujede.
Sav ponos napustio je njegove oči balave.
Voleo bih da imam nogu viška.
Jedna majka posećuje svog sina, smeška mu se kroz rešetke.
Voli ga više nego ikad.
Jedna gojazna devojka ulazi u lift sa mnom.
Sva fensi napirlitana, oko vrata zeleni leptir.
Strašno slatkast miris guši me.
Ona ide sama na večeru.
To je čini još lepšom.
Vidim lice nekog modela na zidu od cigala.
Statua kao porcelan savršena, nasuprot nasilnom ubitačnom gradu.
Gradu koji poštuje samo prohteve tela.
Prvo što sam ikada čula je skitnica koji svoju priču priča
To bio si ti, trava pod mojim bosim nogama
Logorska vatra u mrtvom mraku
Božansko crnilo neba i mora
To smo mi
Kišnim ulicama tumarali, zlatane plaže pročešljavali
Svakog se jutra budili pred novom galerijom čuda
Kupali se na mestima na koja pre nas niko nije kročio
Nakon brodoloma, na nekom maglovitom ostrvu
Bez ikakve odeće sem najfinije odore lepote talasa
Mi smo daleko od smrtnosti svake, njišemo se na dahu prirode
Na ranom vazduhu zore života
Jedan prizor od kojeg bi i nebesa utihnula
Želim da putujem tamo gde ide život, da njegovo vođstvo uvek pratim
Gde vazduh ima ukus kao muzika snega
Gde trava miriše kao novorođeni Raj
Ne bih zaobišao ni jednog čoveka, ni jednog stranca, nijednu tragediju ni ushićenost
Kupao bih se u svetu osećanja
Ljubavi, dobrote i jednostavnosti
(Narušene i zatomljene u tehnologiji)
Jedini momenti koje sam koristio da iskusim pravu ljubav bili su oni kada sam mislio na grobove svoje porodice
Ta ljubav ostaje beskrajna, jer ja nikad neću biti muškarac kao moj otac
Kako je moguće “samo biti svoj” kad ne znaš ko si?
Prestani govoriti “znam kako ti je”
Kako bi iko mogao znati kako se neko drugi oseća?
Ko sam ja da sudim popu, prosjaku, kurvi, političaru, zlikovcu?
Ja sam, ti si, svi smo mi već oni
Dete drago, prestani raditi, idi igraj se
Zaboravi na sva pravila
U snu nema straha
“Da li je u ovoj pahuljici selo?”
– pitalo me jedno dete
“Koje je boje naša uspavanka?”
Nikad nisam bio bliže istini nego tada
Dotakao sam njenu svetlu stranu
Smrt je pobednik u svakom ratu
Nema ničeg plemenitog u umiranju za svoju religiju
Za svoju zemlju
Za svoju ideologiju, za veru
Za drugog čoveka, da
Papir je beživotan bez reči
Mastilo besposleno bez pesme
Bez priča čitav je svet mrtav
Bez ljubavi i razoružavajuće lepote
Nehajni realizam odnosi duše
Da li si Gospoda ikada video nasmejanog?
Sva ta briga o svetu učinila je Predivnog tužnim čovekom?
Zašto i dalje nosimo sprave za mučenje oko vrata?
Oh, kako je pokvarena vaša pred-apokalipsa
Svi vi, budale što biblijom zlo opravdavate, što u noćnoj mori živite
Gledam sve te prazne kolevke i pitam se
Da li će se čovek ikad promeniti
I ja bih voleo da budem pristojan čovek-dečak ali ja sam samo
Dim i ogledala
I dalje dobijam sve što zaslužim
A zauvek ostaje ta promena iz G u E mol