Standard (EADGBE)
No tongue in the bell and the fish wives yell,
But they might as well be mute.
So you get to keep the pictures,
That dont seem like much.
Cold white keys under your fingers,
Now youre thinkin, Thats no substitute,
It just dont do it like the song
Of a warm, warm body lov- - ing your touch.
In the court they carve your legend
With an apple in its jaw
And the women you wanted
They get their laughs
Long silk stockings on the bedposts of refinement
Youre too raw
They think youre too raw
Its the judgment of the moon and stars
Your solitary path
Draw yourself a bath
Think what youd like to have
For supper, or take a walk
park,
bridge,
tree,
river
Re-voked, but not yet cancelled
The gift goes on, in si-lence
In a bell jar, still the song.
Youve got to shake your fists at lightning now
Youve got to roar like a forest fire
Youve got to spread your light like blazes
All across the sky
Theyre gonna aim the hoses on you
Show them you wont expire
Not till you burn up every passion
Not even when you die
Come on now
Youve got to try
If youre feeling contempt
Well, then you tell it
If youre tired of the silent night
Jesus, well, then you yell it
Condemned to wires and hammers
Strike every chord that you feel
That broken trees and elephant ivories conceal