Saturday, October 17, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Walt Whitman's Niece by Billy Bragg & Wilco
[Intro:]
Last night or the night before that (I won't say which night)
A seaman friend of mine (I'll not say which seaman)
Walked up to a big old building (I won't say which building)
And would not have walked up the stairs (not to say which stairs)
If there had not have been two girls
(Leaving out the names of those two girls)
I recall a door, a big long room (I'll not tell which room)
I remember a deep blue rug (but I can't say which rug)
A girl took down a book of poems (not to say which book of poems)
As she read I laid my head (and I can't tell which head)
Down in her lap (and I can mention which lap)
[Spoken:]
My seaman buddy and his girl moved off
After a couple of pages, and there I was
All night long, laying and listening
And forgetting the poems
And as well as I could recall
Or my seaman buddy could recollect
The girl had told us that she was a niece of Walt Whitman
But not which niece
And it takes a night and a girl
And a book of this kind
A long long time to find its way back
[Harmonica solo over verse chords]
Last night or the night before that (I won't say which night)
A seaman friend of mine (I'll not say which seaman)
Walked up to a big old building (I won't say which building)
And would not have walked up the stairs (not to say which stairs)
If there had not have been two girls
(Leaving out the names of those two girls)
Yes, I recall a door, a big long room (I'll not tell which room)
I remember a deep blue rug (but I can't say which rug)
A girl took down a book of poems (not to say which book of poems)
As she read I laid my head (and I can't tell which head)
Down in her lap (and I can mention which lap)
[Fade out: guitar solo over verse]
Last night or the night before that (I won't say which night)
A seaman friend of mine (I'll not say which seaman)
Walked up to a big old building (I won't say which building)
And would not have walked up the stairs (not to say which stairs)
If there had not have been two girls
(Leaving out the names of those two girls)
I recall a door, a big long room (I'll not tell which room)
I remember a deep blue rug (but I can't say which rug)
A girl took down a book of poems (not to say which book of poems)
As she read I laid my head (and I can't tell which head)
Down in her lap (and I can mention which lap)
[Spoken:]
My seaman buddy and his girl moved off
After a couple of pages, and there I was
All night long, laying and listening
And forgetting the poems
And as well as I could recall
Or my seaman buddy could recollect
The girl had told us that she was a niece of Walt Whitman
But not which niece
And it takes a night and a girl
And a book of this kind
A long long time to find its way back
[Harmonica solo over verse chords]
Last night or the night before that (I won't say which night)
A seaman friend of mine (I'll not say which seaman)
Walked up to a big old building (I won't say which building)
And would not have walked up the stairs (not to say which stairs)
If there had not have been two girls
(Leaving out the names of those two girls)
Yes, I recall a door, a big long room (I'll not tell which room)
I remember a deep blue rug (but I can't say which rug)
A girl took down a book of poems (not to say which book of poems)
As she read I laid my head (and I can't tell which head)
Down in her lap (and I can mention which lap)
[Fade out: guitar solo over verse]
Has anybody been here?
Q has tracked Margo to this abandoned strip mall outside of Orlando. Has anybody seen Margo hanging around here?
What could this mean?
Margo highlighted these passages in Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
You shall no longer take things at second of third hand...
nor look through the eyes of the dead...nor feed on
the spectres in books.
I tramp a perpetual journey
All goes onward and outward...and nothing collapses,
And if each and all be aware I sit content
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop some where waiting for you
You shall no longer take things at second of third hand...
nor look through the eyes of the dead...nor feed on
the spectres in books.
I tramp a perpetual journey
All goes onward and outward...and nothing collapses,
And if each and all be aware I sit content
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop some where waiting for you
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