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lirik lagu kingfisher – joanna newsom

whose is the hand that i will hold?
whose is the face i will see?
whose is the name that i will call,
when i am called to meet thee?

in this life, who did you love,
beneath the drifting ashes,
beneath the sheeting banks of air
that barrenly bore our rations?

when i could speak, it was too late.
didn’t you hear me calling?
didn’t you see my heart leap,
like a pup in the constant barley?

in this life, where did you crouch,
when the sky had set to boiling?
burning within, seen from without,
and your gut was a serpent, coiling.

and, for the sake of that pit of snakes,
for whom did you allay your shyness,
and spend all your mercy,
and madness, and grace,
in a day, beneath the bending cypress?

it was not on princ-p-l.
show, pro-heart, that you have got gall.
a miracle:
i can bear a lot, but not that pall.

i can bear a lot, but not that pall!
kingfisher, sound the alarm.
say, “sweet little darlin, now,
come to my arms;
tell me all about the love
you left on the farm.”

he was a kind, unhurried man
with a heavy lip and a steady hand,
but he loved me just like a little child;
like a little child loves a little lamb.

thrown to the ground,
by something down there;
bitten by the bad air,
while the clouds tick;
trying to read all the signs,
preparing for when the bombs h-t;
hung from the underbelly of the earth,
while the stars skid away, below,
gormless and brakeless, gravel-loose,
falling silent as gavels in the snow

i lay back and spit my chaw,
wrapped in the long arm of the law,
who has seen it all:
i can bear a lot, but not that pall.

i can bear a lot, but not that pall!
kingfisher, cast your fly:
oh, lord,
it happens without even trying,
when i sling a low look
from my shuttering eye.

blows rain upon the one you loved,
and, though you were only sparring,
there’s blood on the eye.
unlace the glove.
say, honey i am not sorry.

stand here and name
the one you loved,
beneath the drifting ashes,
and, in naming, rise above time,
as it, flashing, p-sses.

we came by the boatload,
and were immobilized:
worshipping volcanoes,
charting the loping skies.
the tides of the earth
left us bound, and calcified,
and made as obstinate as obsidian,
unmoving, save our eyes:
just mooning and blinking
from faces marked with coal.
(ash cooling and shrinking
cracks loud as thunder rolling.)
i swear i know you. you know me.
where have we met before?
tell me true:
to whose authority
do you consign your soul?

i had a dream you came to me,
said
you shall not do me harm anymore,
and with your knife,
you evicted my life
from its little lighthouse
on the seash-r-.

and i saw that my blood
had no bounds,
spreading in a circle like an atom bomb,
soaking and felling
everything in its path,
and welling in my heart like a birdbath.

it is too short–
the day we are born,
we commence with our dying.
trying to serve,
with the heart of a child;
kingfisher, lie with the lion.

- joanna newsom

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