I am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom told, I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises. All lies and jest still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest. . . . In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carries a reminder of every glove that laid him down or cut him 'till he cried out, in his anger and his shame, "I am leaving, I am leaving" but the fighter still remains.
What a dream I had, pressed in organdy, clothed in crinoline of smoky burgandy, softer than the rain.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity, like emptiness and harmony, I need someone to comfort me.
I have no need for friendship, friendship causes pain, it's laughter and it's loving I disdain. . .Don't talk of love, I've heard the word before. It's sleeping in my memory. I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died, if I never loved, I never would have cried. . . I have my books and my poetry to protect me. I am shielded in my armor. Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one, and no one touches me.
look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes . . .where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio, a nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
Blankets and bedclothes, a child of the mountains sleeps unaware of the clarion call. . .washed is the ground with so many tears . . .war bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill, and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten.
Aren't these lyrics amazing. Why don't all bands/groups have such amazing songwriters?? I love Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, officially.
What a dream I had, pressed in organdy, clothed in crinoline of smoky burgandy, softer than the rain.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity, like emptiness and harmony, I need someone to comfort me.
I have no need for friendship, friendship causes pain, it's laughter and it's loving I disdain. . .Don't talk of love, I've heard the word before. It's sleeping in my memory. I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died, if I never loved, I never would have cried. . . I have my books and my poetry to protect me. I am shielded in my armor. Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one, and no one touches me.
look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes . . .where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio, a nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
Blankets and bedclothes, a child of the mountains sleeps unaware of the clarion call. . .washed is the ground with so many tears . . .war bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill, and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten.
Aren't these lyrics amazing. Why don't all bands/groups have such amazing songwriters?? I love Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, officially.
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