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Time Blues

July 6, 2006 By Jan Clausen

I’m going to sit right here, let time wash over me.
I’m going to sit right here, let time wash over me.
Got to travel in mind because I can’t be free.

Sit wise like a rock, let years rain on my head.
Sit wise like a rock, let years rain on my head.
If I can’t budge, you know I won’t be led.

Cry me a salt wave, bag me a high old star.
Cry me a salt wave, bag me a high old star.
Write me a hero who falls out of love with war.

If life’s a door, raise your knuckles high and knock.
If life’s a door, raise your knuckles high and knock.
If death’s a dance, crank the music up and rock.

I hear the thunder roll in a land afraid of rain.
I hear the thunder roll, all the people dreading rain.
Elect me God, I’d abolish earthly pain.

Did old-time troubles ever look so bad?
Did old-time troubles ever look this bad?
Now we’ve even managed to drive the seasons mad.

Got river failure, cancer of the sun.
Got river failure, cancer of the sun.
Delete this world, download a working one.

The dead and me, we get along all right.
Well the dead and me, we get along all right.
Just sit here scheming ways to mess with night.

You old-time prophets, can you tell us why?
You grim old daddies, tell us the reason why
Time builds a planet, hangs it out to dry.

 

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