lirik lagu rosalie cunningham - a yarn from the wheel
they rise and they fall
like all
the stars in their life
cycles
let me spin you a yarn from the wheel
that we turn on
the business that we
call “show”
where else to begin
but in
the city in spring
time when
they share, and the sky would admire
their reflections in cosmimic harmony
the right place and the right time was wherever the band arrived!
they started to rest
on their laurels
the snakes saw the cracks
in their morals
and they slithered in offering sweet
rosy apples poisoned with neat
desire
in micro, macro, or meta, the story is still the same
oh little darling, nothing’s free
dance with the devil, soon you’ll see
oh little darling, nothing’s free
dance with the devil, soon you’ll see
(soon you’ll see…)
“sign here in your blood and i will make you very rich, dear boy
trust my voice …”
wrap it in plastic
what a fantastic
and lucrative idea
sell it for peanuts
down on the seafront
serve it up with a warm beer and the crowd will cheer
“what a great idea!”
ballads and ditties
ridges that sit
engraved on a spinning plate
foxtrots and waltzes
horses for courses
we have something for anyone who pays the rate
we don’t discriminate
“and the record sales climbed till they soared through the roof
the cheques couldn’t let him check out of the truth
the golden voice boy had become a tin man
barren of heart, rumor spread through the land
the rock ‘n’ roll emperor donned his new clothes
though he knew underneath
he was bare to the bone”
in the servant’s quarters
hired hands
run raw to prepare his drink
made of holy water, elder
flower, and zinc
he’s lost himself
and n0body dares
to find
in the gilded parlor
brash and
fashioned in his likeness
he consumes, imbibes, always re—
ceives in excess, but never gives
nor does he sing anymore
forgotten how to live
he pleads and he prays
“god show me the way!”
lord, he’d better pray
hands in a steeple that gate is so feeble
so why does he rage to the skies?
words of a man who thinks that he can
stand on the earth mother and lie
fall on deaf ears, does he think god will hear petulant promises?
why does he rage to the sky?
begging to others, won’t save you, my brother
you better start looking inside
for all you lost, yeah, for you what fame cost
then maybe perhaps you will find
crumbs on the path leading you from the dark
surely you know this, so
why do you rage to the sky?
why do you rage to the sky?
stripped of
trimmings and finery
sh~rn of
long golden hair
our king
set off that bright, fateful morning
to carry out his plan
guards intercepted at the castle gate
“you look familiar, boy, what be your name?”
“i’m but a minstrel, i dance, and i sing, and i play for the king
now i’ll be on my way, got no reason to stay”
with the creak of a hinge, he was free as a bird
in the
bustling marketplace
smells and
sounds did recall
memories
so long forgotten from way back when
before it all
finding
shade under the trees, he proceeded
to play his guitar
soon coins
rained all around him
he left them while folks cried, “you should be a star!”
he stood and watched them running around
and hunt like pigeons for grain on the ground
he felt like ruffling feathers and blowing some cobwebs away
so thought what better way could he truly display?
what he learned then by ending the show
with the big reveal!
(call show)
a yarn from the wheel
that we turn on
the business that
we call show
will the wheel turn on
the business that
we call show
in micro, macro, or meta
the story is still the same
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