"A young teenager stands like a stone in a world she can’t rise above. Beside her another minor wonders how he is going to be a father to the Son of God.
Dickens once said that , ‘it is a far better thing that i do, than i have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that i go to, than i have ever known.’
it reminds me of the mystery that the great tom waits sings…….come on up to the house….. A friend of mine said the other day that; “I need Tom Waits. I need someone who can sing ‘you’re falling down’ in a voice that raises up. Such a ferocious and beautiful voice. How sweet the sound” … how sweet indeed
Well the moon is broken
And the sky is cracked
Come on up to the house
The only things that you can see
Is all that you lack
Come on up to the house
All your cryin don’t do no good
Come on up to the house
Come down off the cross
We can use the wood
Come on up to the house
Come on up to the house
Come on up to the house
The world is not my home
I’m just a passin thru
Come on up to the house
There’s no light in the tunnel
No irons in the fire
Come on up to the house
And your singin lead soprano
In a junkman’s choir
You gotta come on up to the house
Does life seem nasty, brutish and short
Come on up to the house
The seas are stormy
And you can’t find no port
Come on up to the house
There’s nothin in the world
there’s nothin in the world
that you can do
you gotta come on up to the house
and you been whipped by the forces
that are inside you
come on up to the house
well you’re high on top
of your mountain of woe
come on up to the house
well you know you should surrender
but you can’t let go
you gotta come on up to the house
if i exorcise my demons my angels just might leave too……
Maybe we should wear our broken hearts and battered idealism not like hard-won honours but open, weeping sores…maybe that unlocks the door that leads to freedom…"
3 comments:
my oh my
tom stitches my wounds, provides shelter in the storm, soothes my turbulent soul.
I have often referred to Tom Waits as my God,
but i don't want to insult Tom.
But, if God did for me what Mr Waits has done for me over the years...maybe I would believe again
come down of the cross, we could use the wood
amen
..Maybe we should wear our broken hearts and battered idealism not like hard-won honours but open, weeping sores…maybe that unlocks the door that leads to freedom…"
I love it.
thank you Sarah.
xo
if i exorcise my demons my angels just might leave too……
there is something about this line that gets me...that gets under my skin...and i think it is because there is such truth in it...such truth about the fear of letting go of our little rituals that keep us safe...we are hooked to our fears and worries, as if they were charms that warded off bad feelings...
...but they don't...they are probably just smokescreens and distractions...and the things we try to run from remain. And, that is what comes to mind when i think about this line.
We demonise things we need not demonise...and in demonising we demean...and we should not demean...for that which we demean, is ourselves...
and the fantasy, and the charms of angels in all their purity and radiance can be a tragic lure, that makes us severe ourselves from the life that is much more radically human.
just some thoughts.
Post a Comment