Wednesday, November 30, 2005

visions of johanna

If visions of Johanna
Were just a banner, I’d let it go
But it seems to me that there’s something more, it goes to show.
At 25 there’s still a lot to know, but I’ve been told
That to be bold in faith would be to break the monster’s back
But grow bold in faith yet knowledge lack ?
Assume a truth that’s been Put in my sack? and
strapped to my back? would be a weight that’s slack to drag around
they expound

but they just sound
its something they’ve found, they say
but it’s a gift says he, but stay
that satchel, hold it back and don’t deliver
keep it from me just to know the giver.
Whisper his name it gives me a shiver
Just to hear

Juts to fear
Just to draw near to the well from which those raindrops fell
I wish they didn’t burn my eyes, burn my skin
I wish my kin
Would get it in that
Loves no sin
But it might be to have three fingers pointing back in
They call it light
But their eyes are so dim
That they can’t see that, when they try to condemn
a lifestyle
They can’t think of how many times a lecture’s worked on a child
Of how to keep dust out of the eyes while plaining a board
When the master has splinters and eyes of wood.

How effective can it be
To teach a child the age of two
To tie his laces on a foot in Einstein’s shoe

And while they draw lines in the sand
Hundreds of feet deep in some far off desert land
They make a sound so loud that its getting hard for me to hear the band

But play on good souls
Its still a happy man that knows
The words you’re saying
But, the riffs you’re playing, are just as good

Yeah Bob, the nights like that
But I’m not trying to be quiet.
And if I hear of one more bomb I say riot
They’ll say its been done
But we havn’t tried it

If visions of Johanna
Were just a banner, I’d let it go
But it seems to me that there’s something more, it goes to show.
At 25 there’s still a lot to know, but I’ve been told
That to be bold in faith would be to break the monster’s back
But grow bold in faith yet knowledge lack ?
Assume a truth that’s been Put in my sack? and
strapped to my back? would be a weight that’s slack to drag around
they expound

but they just sound
its something they’ve found, they say
but it’s a gift says he, but stay
that satchel, hold it back and don’t deliver
keep it from me just to know the giver.
Whisper his name it gives me a shiver
Just to hear

Juts to fear
Just to draw near to the well from which those raindrops fell
I wish they didn’t burn my eyes, burn my skin
I wish my kin
Would get it in that
Loves no sin
But it might be to have three fingers pointing back in
They call it light
But their eyes are so dim
That they can’t see that, when they try to condemn
a lifestyle
They can’t think of how many times a lecture’s worked on a child
Of how to keep dust out of the eyes while plaining a board
When the master has splinters and eyes of wood.

How effective can it be
To teach a child the age of two
To tie his laces on a foot in Einstein’s shoe

And while they draw lines in the sand
Hundreds of feet deep in some far off desert land
They make a sound so loud that its getting hard for me to hear the band

But play on good souls
Its still a happy man that knows
The words you’re saying
But, the riffs you’re playing, are just as good

Yeah Bob, the nights like that
But I’m not trying to be quiet.
And if I hear of one more bomb I say riot
They’ll say its been done
But we havn’t tried it