Courtship from Pipes by Grampfather

I was just sitting home, I had nothing to do
so I headed to a friends house, they were all playing impromptu,
but when you arrived with those foreign familiar eyes
I no longer wanted to improvise--
my mind was set on getting alone with you.

Couldn't help but think, "What am I doing here?
They're all drunk and my head is clear."
Something about your smile
said you were feeling it too.

I can't apologize for coming on too strong
because I really feel we'd get along--
if we could just get out of here
maybe you'd see me through.

C'mon, let's go outside, feel the air, so nice.
Breathe it in, the crisp, wood-burned air--
can you feel it, can you feel it, so stripped and bare
beyond the banter? Pure as the moon is our lantern.
See how it glows for you as it grows as it lows for you
like some holy calf enormous, swelling yellow luminous.
Let us dissolve in this, let us dissolve in this.

And you, you turned back to me,
yeah you, you turned back to me
and you looked at me with those soft-toned eyes
and said to me to my surprise,
"There's nothing I'd rather do than look at this moon
and get high with you."

Well I smiled real big and you grabbed my hand.
"Let's go and see how far our minds can span."
From the scope of this spirit, nothing could have seemed more true.
But as we know, these things never tend to last.
Have we not learned from our thwarted pasts?
How many delusions must we suffer ourselves through?

But as we laid there that night in the grass collecting dew,
watching the sky pale from black to blue, I thought of
how our bitter-blisses might accrue
and when whatever this is would no longer seem new.
O me o my, o me o my morbid mind.
Will ever we find stasis in these modern times?
And whatever it is we have together in this merciless abyss,
let us dissolve in this, let us dissolve in this.

Will we be redeemed from the daunting byproducts of our dreams?
It's always better abstract and lofty, rather than the solid, sordid concrete.
Yet despite how many lives we've died, still yes, I must confess:
without this wavering madness our lives would seem quite meaningless.
O me o my, o me o my morbid mind.
Will ever we find stasis in these modern times?
And whatever it is we have together in this merciless abyss,
let us dissolve in this, let us dissolve in this.

• Punk
• Rock
• garage rock
• indie
• psychedelic rock
• rock & roll
• Kingston