The Infanta

Here she comes in her palanquin
On the back of an elephant
On a bed made of linen and sequins and silk
All astride on her father’s line
With the king and his concubines
And her nurse with her pitchers of liquors and milk
And we’ll all come praise the infanta
And we’ll all come praise the infanta

Among five score pachyderm
Each canopied and passengered
Sit the duke and the duchess’ luscious young girls
Within sight of the baronness
Seething spite for this live largesse
By her side sits the baron
Her barrenness barbs her
And we’ll all come praise the infanta
And we’ll all come praise the infanta

A phalanx on camelback
Thirty ranks on a forward tack
Followed close, their shiny bright standards a-waving
While behind in their coach, in fours
Ride the wives of the king of Moors
And the veiled young virgin, the prince’s betrothed
And we’ll all come praise the infanta
And we’ll all come praise the infanta

And as she sits upon her place
Her innocence laid on her face
From all atop the parapets blow a multitude of coronets
Melodies rhapsodical and fair
And all our hearts afire
The sky ablaze with cannon fire
We all raise our voices to the air
To the air…

And above all this falderal
On a bed made of chaparral
She is laid, a coronal placed on her brow
And the babe, all in slumber dreams
Of a place filled with quiet streams
And the lake where her cradle was pulled from the water
And we’ll all come praise the infanta
And we’ll all come praise the infanta

We Both Go Down Together

Here on these cliffs of Dover
So high you can’t see over
And while your head is spinning
Hold tight, it’s just beginning

You come from parents wanton
A childhood rough and rotten
I come from wealth and beauty
Untouched by work or duty

And oh, my love, my love
And oh, my love, my love
We both go down together

I found you, a tattooed tramp
A dirty daughter from the labour cans
I laid you down on the grass of a clearing
You wept but your soul was willing

And oh, my love, my love
And oh, my love, my love
We both go down together

And my parents will never consent to this love
But I hold your hand

Meet me on my vast veranda
My sweet, untouched Miranda
And while the seagulls are crying
We fall but our souls are flying

And oh, my love, my love
And oh, my love, my love
And oh, my love, oh my love
And oh, my love, my love
We both go down together

Eli, The Barrow Boy

Eli, the barrow boy, you’re the old town
Sells coal and marigolds and he cries out all down the day
Below the tamarack she is crying
Corn cobs and candlewax for the buying, all down the day

Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe
Made of gold and silk arabian thread
She is dead and gone and lying in a pine grove
And I must push my barrow all the day
And I must push my barrow all the day

Eli, the barrow boy, when they found him
Dressed all in corduroy, he had drowned in the river down the way
They laid his body down in a churchyard
But still when the moon is out, with his pushcart, he calls down the day

Would I could afford to buy my love a fine gown
Made of gold and silk arabian thread
But I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground
But still I push my barrow all the day
Still I push my barrow all the day

The Sporting Life

I fell on the playing field
The work of an errant heel
The din of the crowd and the loud commotion
Went deafening silence and stopped emotion
The season was almost done
We managed it 12 to 1
So far I had known no humiliation
in front of my friends and close relations

There’s my father looking on
And there’s my girlfriend arm in arm
With the captain of the other team
And all of this is clear to me
They condescend and fix on me a frown
How they love the sporting life

And father had had such hopes
For a son who would take the ropes
And fulfill all his old athletic aspirations
But apparently now there’s some complications
But while I am lying here
Trying to fight the tears
I’ll prove to the crowd that I come out stronger
Though I think I might lie here a little longer

There’s my coach he’s looking down
The disappointment in his knitted brow
I should’ve known
He thinks again
I never should have put him in
He turns and loads the lemonade away
And breathes in deep
The sporting life
The sporting life
The sporting life
How he loves…

There’s my father looking on
And there’s my girlfriend arm in arm
With the captain of the other team
And all of this is clear to me
They condescend and fix on me a frown
How they love the sporting life

The Bagman’s Gambit

On the lam from the law
On the steps of the capitol
You shot a plainclothes cop on the ten o’clock
And I saw momentarily
They flashed a photograph, it couldn’t be you
You’d been abused so horribly
But you were there in some anonymous room
And I recall that fall
I was working for the government
And in a bathroom stall off the National Mall
How we kissed so sweetly
How could I refuse a favor or two
For a trist in the greenery
I gave you documents and microfilm, too

And from my ten floor tenement
Where once our bodies lay
How I long to hear you say
No, they’ll never catch me now
No, they’ll never catch me
No, they cannot catch me now
We will escape somehow
Somehow

It was late one night
I was awoken by the telephone
I heard a strangled cry on the end of the line
Purloined in Petrograd
They were suspicious of where your loyalties lay
So I paid off a bureaucrat
To convince your captors they’re to secret you away

And at the gate of the embassy
Our hands met through the bars
As your whisper stilled my heart
No, they’ll never catch me now
No, they’ll never catch me
No, they cannot catch me now
We will escape somehow
Somehow

And I dreamt one night
You were there in fours
Head held high
In uniform

It was ten years on
When you resurfaced in a motorcar
With the wave of an arm
You were there and gone

(From My Own True Love) Lost At Sea

Four score years
Living down in this rain swept town
Sea salt tears
Swimming round as the rain comes down

Mr. Postman, do you have a letter for me?
Mr. Postman, do you have a letter for me?
A letter for me
From my own true love
Lost at sea
Lost at sea

Mr. Postman, do you have a letter for me?
Mr. Postman, do you have a letter for me?
A letter for me
From my own true love
Lost at sea
Lost at sea

16 Military Wives

Sixteen military wives
Thirty-two softly focused brightly colored eyes
Staring at the natural tan
Of thirty-two gently clenching wrinkled little hands
Seventeen company men
Out of which only twelve will make it back again
Sergeant sent a letter to five
Military wives, his tears drip down to ten little eye

Cheer them on to their rivals
Cause America can, and America can’t say no
And America does, if America says it’s so
It’s so

And the anchorperson on TV goes…
La de da de da

Fifteen celebrity mimes
Leaving their fifteen sorted wretched checkered lives
Will they find the solution in time
Using their fifteen pristine moderate liberal minds?

Eighteen academy chairs
Out of which only seven really even care
Doling out a garment to five
Celebrity mimes, they’re humbly taken by surprise

Cheer them on to their rivals
Cause America can, and America can’t say no
And America does, if America says it’s so
It’s so

And the anchorperson on TV goes…
La de da de da de-dadedade-da
La de da de da de-dadedade-da

Fourteen cannibal kings
Wondering blindly what the dinner bell will bring
Fifteen celebrity mimes
Served on a leafy bed the sixteen military wives

Cheer them on to their rivals
Cause America can, and America can’t say no
And America does, if America says it’s so
It’s so

And the anchorperson on TV goes…
La de da de da de-dadedade-da
La de da de da de-dadedade-da

The Engine Driver

I’m an engine driver
On a long run, on a long run
Would I work beside her
She’s a long one, such a long one

And if you don’t love me let me go
And if you don’t love me let me go

I’m a country lineman
On a high line, on a high line
So will be my grandson
There are power-lines in our bloodlines

And if you don’t love me let me go
And if you don’t love me let me go

And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I’ve written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones

I’m a money lender
I have fortunes upon fortunes
Take my hand for tender
I am tortured, ever tortured

And if you don’t love me let me go
And if you don’t love me let me go

And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I’ve written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
I am a writer, I am all that you have home
Home
And I’ve written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones

(And if you don’t love me let me go)
And if you don’t love me let me go
(And if you don’t love me let me go)
And if you don’t love me let me go

On The Bus Mall

In matching blue raincoats,
Our shoes were our show boats
We kicked around.
From stairway to station
We made a sensation
With the gadabout crowd.
And oh, what a bargain,
We.re two easy targets
For the old men at the off-tracks,
Who.ve paid in palaver
And crumpled old dollars,
Which we squirreled away
In our rat trap hotel by the freeway.
And we slept-in Sundays.

Your parents were anxious,
Your cool was contagious
At the old school.
You left without leaving
A note for your grieving
Sweet mother, while
Your brother was so cruel.
And here in the alleys
Your spirits were rallied
As you learned quick to make a fast buck.
In bathrooms and barrooms,
On dumpsters and heirlooms,
We bit our tongues.
Sucked our lips into our lungs
’til we were falling.
Such was our calling.

And here in our hollow we fuse like a family,
But I will not mourn for you.
So take up your makeup
And pocket your pills away.
We.re kings among runaways
On the bus mall.
We.re down
On the bus mall.

Among all the urchins and old Chinese merchants
Of the old town,
We reigned at the pool hall
With one iron cue ball
And we never let the bastards get us down.
And we laughed off the quick tricks–
the old men with limp dicks–
On the colonnades of the waterfront park.
As 4 in the morning came on, cold and boring,
We huddled close
In the bus stop enclosure enfolding.
Our hands tightly holding.

But here in our hollow we fuse like a family,
But I will not mourn for you.
So take up your makeup
And pocket your pills away.
We.re kings among runaways
On the bus mall.
We.re down
On the bus mall.
We.re down
On the bus mall.
Down on the bus mall.
oh ooh oh

The Infanta

Here she comes in her palanquin
On the back of an elephant
On a bed made of linen and sequins and silk
All astride on her father’s line
With the king and his concubines
And her nurse with her pitchers of liquors and milk
And we’ll all come praise the infanta
And we’ll all come praise the infanta

Among five score pachyderm
Each canopied and passengered
Sit the duke and the duchess’ luscious young girls
Within sight of the baronness
Seething spite for this live largesse
By her side sits the baron
Her barrenness barbs her
And we’ll all come praise the infanta
And we’ll all come praise the infanta

A phalanx on camelback
Thirty ranks on a forward tack
Followed close, their shiny bright standards a-waving
While behind in their coach, in fours
Ride the wives of the king of Moors
And the veiled young virgin, the prince’s betrothed
And we’ll all come praise the infanta
And we’ll all come praise the infanta

And as she sits upon her place
Her innocence laid on her face
From all atop the parapets blow a multitude of coronets
Melodies rhapsodical and fair
And all our hearts afire
The sky ablaze with cannon fire
We all raise our voices to the air
To the air…

And above all this falderal
On a bed made of chaparral
She is laid, a coronal placed on her brow
And the babe, all in slumber dreams
Of a place filled with quiet streams
And the lake where her cradle was pulled from the water
And we’ll all come praise the infanta
And we’ll all come praise the infanta

The Mariner’s Revenge Song

We are two mariners
Our ship’s sole survivors
In this belly of a whale
It’s ribs are ceiling beams
It’s guts are carpeting
I guess we have some time to kill

You may not remember me
I was a child of three
And you, a lad of eighteen
But, I remember you
And I will relate to you
How our histories interweave
At the time you were
A rake and a roustabout
Spending all your money
On the whores and hounds
(oh, oh)

You had a charming air
All cheap and debonair
My widowed mother found so sweet
And so she took you in
Her sheets still warm with him
Now filled with filth and foul disease
As time wore on you proved
A debt-ridden drunken mess
Leaving my mother
A poor consumptive wretch
(oh, oh)

And then you disappeared
Your gambling arrears
The only thing you left behind
And then the magistrate
Reclaimed our small estate
And my poor mother lost her mind
Then, one day in spring
My dear sweet mother died
But, before she did
I took her hand as she, dying, cried:
(oh, oh)

“Find him, Bind him
Tie him to a pole and break
His fingers to splinters
Drag him to a hole until he
Wakes up naked
Clawing at the ceiling
Of his grave”

It took me fifteen years
To swallow all my tears
Among the urchins in the street
Until a priory
Took pity and hired me
To keep their vestry nice and neat
But, never once in the employ
Of these holy men
Did I ever, once turn my mind
From the thought of revenge
(oh, oh)

One night I overheard
The prior exchanging words
With a penitent whaler from the sea
The captain of his ship
Who matched you toe to tip
Was known for wanton cruelty
The following day
I shipped to sea
With a privateer
And in the whistle
Of the wind
I could almost hear
(oh, oh)

“Find him, Bind him
Tie him to a pole and break
His fingers to splinters
Drag him to a hole until he
Wakes up naked
Clawing at the ceiling
Of his grave

There is one thing I must say to you
As you sail across the sea
Always, your mother will watch over you
As you avenge this wicked deed”

And then, that fateful night
We had you in our sight
After twenty months at sea
Your starboard flank abeam
I was getting my muskets clean
When came this rumbling from beneath
The ocean shook
The sky went black
And the captain quailed
And before us grew
The angry jaws
Of a giant whale

(oh..)

Don’t know how I survived
The crew all was chewed alive
I must have slipped between his teeth
But, oh, what providence
What divine intelligence
That you should survive
As well as me
It gives my heart great joy
To see your eyes fill with fear
So lean in close
And I will whisper
The last words you’ll hear
(oh, oh)

Of Angels And Angles

There are angels in your angles
There’s a low moon caught in your tangles
There’s a ticking at the sill
There’s a purr of a pigeon to break the still of day

As on we go drowning
Down we go away
And darling, we go a-drowning
Down we go away
Away

There’s a tough word on your crossword
There’s a bed bug nipping a finger
There’s a swallow, there’s a calm
Here’s a hand to lay on your open palm today

As on we go drowning
Down we go away
And darling, we go a-drowning
Down we go away
Away

There are angels in your angles
There’s a low moon caught in your tangles