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lirik lagu marsy mars - (do you know the) cherub's house address?

verse 1
“ambition, when you cry, i weep
but when you die, i but sleep”
seemed a maxim for living by when i passed the bar
now elected, to address you, my people, i have only questions;
seems only to befit the free that they tell me
the leader they would like me to be
and the land they would like me to shape, which i’m sure they’d
bid be given an almighty shake, while remaining precisely the same
i am a mirror whose sheen is honed by your mood
but i wonder if you will like what lurks in there?
if you understand you vote not solely to improve the mirror’s condition?
i wonder if you are prepared to accept the truth, that in any
functioning democracy every citizen must be a politician?
we are surely citizens of a contradiction
we’ve had it so good for so long, and, now all of a sudden
we find times are tougher than they’ve ever been
so how will we fix it? high wages and high tax?
or let me guess, fatter packs with taxes left relaxed?
and then there’s the ranting jesuit of our sk!lls deficit
i may be compelled at times to make unpopular calls
i will succeed if i leave both beloved and embittered of you all
but i promise you this; my ambition that was once egoistic
now i call it a mission revised; for whatever
you call me to do, i shall not sleep until i die, not
until the past’s murky interpositions are cake can be served
to dead, alive and yet~to~come alike; so that i too can enjoy
my slice, in revenant company with king and blake
as fellow history’s duty~fulfilled’s, sat by godly motion lake”
chorus
let me take you down to the what~if fields
where darling buds unwanted forever grow

post~chorus 1
~snoring sound~

verse 2
that’s how i imagine my brother stood outside
the cherub’s house, modest and glorious seat
of a society in decline, making this speech in
acceptance of the highest office in the land
how weird now the five o clock sun shines after
the ghost of a deserved future unfulfilled flies
the texts of daydreams like these, radiant in implication
that open, flip, and flap to the skies every morning next
are my only means of understanding brother mine, of picturing
what he’d be doing now had he not done what he did then
and this path seemed a dream so easy to believe, his pursuit
of the honour itself, the poetry with which it’d be received
but i realised what made it a credible dream
was his willingness to challenge and serve in the same word
and having changed the way few ever change, he could know
what possessions of the impossible lay in hope’s firing range
as he came within sight of happiness, having been unloved from birth
he could command hope, of which optimism is but a worthy
but fickle page, one in a constant state of near enragement
one that is unanswerable enmity at the world, crazed and just~about caged
for being one of the few of its species to have survived in its age
yes, such a diabolic nephew or niece could he tame, raise, and play
in its redemptive power which is that most
quintessentially human of innovations
much like, i presume, the will to wonder what might’ve been
and the will to wonder why
post~chorus 2
i told ma, who hadn’t asked, “you know, i think, had
he lived, bro would’ve made a great prime minister.” that she
did not irately berate me for bearing his name
but stayed silent, betrayed that she’d woken once again from
a nightmare of being a poor migrant single mother

verse 3
“you made it,” dad would say to me
“but not far enough”; it’s true, junior
i could have been one of two rich men’s
bride, but not on the night that you
were conceived junior; there was no
true villain of my life as effective at
confounding me in villainy as the baby that grew inside
but i love you, my mini~star, and like every mother
i am convinced you will make a wonderful prime minister
here in our home by the river side, winter walled inside, there’s
little to do but look at you and think to an extent that is bad for my health
i’d like to think that this relative penury is
preferable to a life walled in by worldly wealth and luxury
the dysfunction and boredom not worth the pelf
but the truth is that i may never know
i imagine i would mock me if i had all that and nothing else to do
i would pity me, as now i pity them pitying that vision of me
you’ll go to school with pride, even if you’re made
to wear the darker wool; your mother will dignify you
teach you to bear your head high all day long; and in
your success, you’ll return here to tell me i was wrong ; here
a house on the riverside, a dream out of olden time
as grey, as totally black and white, and as within
the dominion of a king who rules via sublime tide
as steamboat w~lly; that’s my life with you, junior
that’s my life with you

- lirik lagu marsy mars

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