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Sadie, white coat, you carry me home |
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And bury this bone and take this pine cone |
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Bury this bone to gnaw on it later |
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Gnawing on the telephone |
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Until then, we pray and suspend |
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The notion that these lives do never end |
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And all day long we talk about mercy |
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Lead me to water, Lord, I sure am thirsty |
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Down in the ditch where I nearly served you |
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Up in the clouds where he almost heard you |
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And all that we built and all that we breathed |
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And all that we spilt, or pulled up like weeds |
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Is piled up in back and it burns irrevocably |
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And we spoke up in turns 'til the silence crept over me |
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And bless you, and I deeply do |
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No longer resolute, oh and I call to you |
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But the water go so cold |
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And you do lose what you don't hold |
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This is an old song, these are old blues |
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And this is not my tune, but it's mine to use |
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And the seabirds where the fear once grew |
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Will flock with a fury and they will bury what'd come for you |
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And down where I darn with the milk-eyed mender |
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You and I, and a love so tender |
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Stretched on a hoop where I stitched this adage: |
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"Bless our house and its heart so savage" |
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And all that I want, and all that I need |
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And all that I've got is scattered like seed |
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And all that I knew is moving away from me |
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And all that I know is blowing like tumbleweed |
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And the mealy worms in the brine will burn |
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In a salty pyre among the fauns and ferns |
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And the love we hold, and the love we spurn |
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Will never grow cold, only taciturn |
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And I'll tell you tomorrow |
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Sadie, go on home now |
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And bless those who've sickened below |
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And bless us who have chosen so |
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And all that I've got and all that I need |
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I tie in a knot and I lay at your feet |
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And I have not forgot, but a silence crept over me |
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So dig up your bone, exhume your pine cone, my Sadie |
