Grandma sits on a chair in the middle of her room
looking at the stars,
wondering why it's been so long
(and since what)
and why she can't remember-
while looking at the stars, she thinks,
'how did I get here? And where will I go?
How can I be so old and still not know?'
Some passed before her and some still write,
some of them in ancient tongues,
wondering how it's been so long
(and since what)
and why they can't remember-
while looking at the stars, they think,
'how did we get here? and where will we go?
How can we be so old and still not know?'
Sometimes she calls me Ilona
Sometimes she wonders where Becky is
sometimes she calls me Ilona
Grandma sits in a chair in the middle of her room
***
Wait for it now, for your turn, I brought you ointment for your burn
(too much fun in the sun could kill someone!)
Run little magpie, run run run,
you got kissed by the lip of his gun,
red ribbon cut on a new freedom...
Black raven on a fence, taken for a crow
you let your hair grow and the wind blows
Wait for it now, for your turn, you didn't win but you can learn
too much fun in the sun- ...
Sit little birdie, stay some more,
chairs squeak on the kitchen floor
windows open for you just for fun.
Black raven on a fence taken for a crow,
you let your hair grow and the wind blows.
Page after page I begin to understand you,
and night after night patience is a virtue,
and year after year we all become clear and see through,
wait for it now, for your turn.
***
It's daddy's fault, it's mommy's fault - no it's all our own damn fault.
Sister married, ma got sent away, we looked around, one of us had to stay.
"Your shirt's too small, your shirt's too small, your shirt's too small-
for the love of God stand tall! And stick it to the man."
Well it's a lot to ask, it's a lot to ask, it's a lot to ask from one young burnt out girl
who's doing all she can.
So I rode off into nothing and it became pretty all right.
I tried, he didn't remember. I tried, he said it didn't happen,
and over time, I wonder if it's true, but I just can't bring myself to ask you.
"You work too much", he says, "you work too much. You work too much.
Come home and make me lunch! Come on home.
You're not around enough, you're not around enough, you're not around enough-"
"Hey I'm just doing what I can! Trying to stick it to the man."
So I rode off into nothing, and it became me,
and I know if I had to return papa I could, but right now everything's good-
but don't get used to it, or you'll forget how to fight.
Don't get used to it, or you'll forget how to fight.
***
How wonderful, how wonderful, would it be to be
Buried hand over hand when the moon's quarter to three
in the shadow of my favourite tree.
How wonderful, how wonderful- my sins have been forgiven!
I didn't die by my own hand, my sins have been forgiven,
they lay now on the burdened son that's got to go on livin.
How wonderful, how wonderful, never meant for a classy ride
don't throw me in a satin box or throw money at goodbyes,
I'd rather go just how I came,
quite surprised not a thing to my name,
caught in the middle of whatever game I was playin.
How wonderful, how wonderful would it be to be
Buried hand over hand when the moon's quarter to three
in the shadow of my favourite tree-
in the shadow patiently.
