Lyrics Database

MewithoutYou - "It’s All Crazy ! It’s All False ! It’s All A Dream ! It’s Alright"

(adapted to singing) - {completed}

May 19th, 2009, by Tobe


 
 
 
 
 
 
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1. every thought a Thought of You
 
every thought a Thought of You
no more thought, I ought to do...
when there ain’t a thing we see
or touch we trust is true
every thought a thought of You

every look in search of You
no need for book when we’re with You
you wear a thin disguise,
O, Light within my Brother’s eyes!
every look in search of You

every song in praise of You
our darkest nights are days to You
the Trees raise branches high
like arms in church to grateful Sky,
every song in praise of You

no one here to believe but You
everyone else is bound to leave but You
when they swear, their love is real, they mean
I like the way you make me feel
no one here to believe but You
there is no one here to believe but You

kul-anaya fikr minh ka
abadan ahatmam enna ajab
hayya’alal falal qad qamadis alah
Haqq: la illaha il Allah
 
 
2. the Fox, the Crow, and the Cookie

Through mostly vacant streets a Baker from the outskirts of his town earned his living peddling sweets from a ragged cart he dragged around. The clever Fox crept close behind, kept an ever watchful eye for a chance to steal a Ginger spicecake or a Boysenberry pie.

Looking down was the hungry Crow: When the time is right I’ll strike and condescend to the earth below and take whichever treat I like! The moment the Baker turned around to shoo the Fox off from his cart, the Crow swooped down and snatched a shortbread cookie and a German chocolate tart. Using most unfriendly words that the village children had not yet heard, the Baker shouted threats by Canzonet to curse the crafty bird: You rotten wooden mixing spoon! Why, you midnight winged raccoon!! You’d better bring those pastries back, you no good, burnt-black-macaroon!!!

The Fox approached the tree where the bird was perched, delighted, in his nest: Brother Crow, don’t you remember me? It’s your old friend Fox with a humble request. If you could share just a modest piece, seeing as I distracted that awful man... This failed to persuade the Crow in the least, so the Fox rethought his plan: Then, if your lovely song would grace my ears, or, to even hear you speak would ease my pains and fears. The Crow looked down with the candy in his beak. Your poems of wisdom, my Good Crow, what a paradise they bring! This flattery pleased the proud bird so, he opened his mouth and began to sing: Your subtle acclamation’s true, best to give praise where praise is due. Every Rook and Jay in the Corvidae has been Raven about me too! They admire me, one and all... must be the passion in my ‘Caw’, my slender bill, known through the Escadrille, my fierce, commanding claw...

[ the cookie drops, Fox retrieves it – there is commotion in the town as the Baker gives chase. Crow is humiliated, realizes he’s been tricked, continues his song ]

Ah, I’ve got a Walnut-brownie-brain and Molasses in my veins, crushed graham cracker crust, my powdered Sugar funnelcake cocaine. Let the Crescent Cookie rise! These Carob-colored Almond eyes would rest to see my Cashew Princess in the Swirling Marble Sky. We’ll rest upon the Knee where all divisions cease to be and rootbeer float in our Banana Boat across the Tapioca Sea. When letting all attachments go is the only prayer we know. May it be so, may it be so, may it be so, oh...
Amen
 
 
3. the Angel of Death came to David’s room

the Angel of Death came to David’s room
the Angel of Death came to David’s room
the Angel of Death came to David’s room
he said, "Friend, it’s time to go"’

David:
Angel, no, I think you’ve come too soon
Angel, no, I think you’ve come too soon
Angel, no, I think you’ve come too soon
it’s not my time to go

Angel:
sorry friend, now put your hand in mine
I’m sorry friend, now put your hand in mine
David:
but good Angel, don’t I get a warning sign
before it’s my time to go?

Angel:
come now David, where’s your Grandma gone?
come now David, where’s your Grandpa gone?
come now David, where’s your Grandma gone?
their time came to go

David:
but I slew Goliath with the sling and stone
I slew Goliath with the sling and stone
I slew Goliath with the sling and stone
it’s not my time to go

Angel:
he’ll be waiting for you when we get back home
he’ll be waiting for you when we get back home
he’ll be waiting for you when we get back home
it’s time, it’s time to go

come now David, where’s your Momma gone?
come now David, where’ve your Uncles gone?
come now David, where’ve your Aunts all gone?
their time came to go

David:
can I tell Solomon the things I’ve learned?
can I tell Solomon the things I’ve learned?

Angel:
I’m sorry, friend, that’s none of my concern
it’s time, it’s time to go

come now David where’s Uriah gone?
stranded on the battlefield, the troops withdrawn
come now David, where’s Uriah gone?
his time came to go

come now David, where’s Bathsheba gone?
and where’ve your binoculars and rooftops gone?
and the unexpected Baby-from-the-bath-night gone?
their time came to go

come now David, where is everybody goin’? (x7)
 
 
4. goodbye, I !

The Farmer drove his tractor where the soil had been tilled, planting Corn in rank and file from the silo to the lumber mill. He rode along in silence as he looked out past the Honeysuckle field, watched the water turn, turn the waterwheel. Started thinking about his daughter with affection, her reaction of disdain the day he replaced the blue Hydrangea with the climbing frame, while her disappointed Sister looked on, quiet as the snow, knowing well that those who know don’t talk and those who talk don’t know. But she couldn’t help but sing! She couldn’t help but sing! Oh, she couldn’t help but sing! She couldn’t help but sing! She tried and couldn’t help but sing! She couldn’t help but sing! Oh, she couldn’t help but sing! She couldn’t help but sing!

The Tortoise in the wheelchair wrapped his forehead in a bandage, with a cast they made from plaster for his phony broken leg so he’d get pushed around the sidewalk by the Zookeeper’s assistant, with the Hummingbird observing from behind a yellow Flower, and he flapped his tiny wings, they moved so fast you couldn’t see them, with resentment for the Tortoise, which was clear by his expression. But the Tortoise turned and smiled with a Peacefulness which proved that there’s a movement in our stillness and however much we move we’re bound to stand completely still. We stand completely still. We all stand completely still. We stand completely still. Let’s all stand completely still! Let’s stand completely still! Let’s all stand completely still! Let’s stand completely still!

come, Tortoise, standing still – go, Hummingbird, my will
come, Tortoise, stumbling blind – go, Hummingbird, my eyes
come Tortoise, empty hands – go, Hummingbird, my plan
come Tortoise undefined – go, Hummingbird, my mind
come, Tortoise, letting go – go, Hummingbird, ‘I know’
come, Tortoise, come and die – go, Hummingbird, my I
oh... goodbye, I ! goodbye, I ! bye, bye, bye
 
 
5. a Stick, a Carrot & String

The Horse’s hay beneath His head our Lord was born to a manger bed, that all whose wells run dry could drink of His supply. To keep Him warm the Sheep drew near, so grateful for His coming here: You come with news of grace, come to take my place!

The Donkey whispered in His ear: Child, in thirty-some-odd years, You’ll ride someone who looks like me (untriumphantly).

While the Cardinals warbled a joyful song: He’ll make right what man made wrong, bringing low the hills, that the valleys might be filled!

Then Child, asked the birds, well, aren’t they lovely words we sing? The tiny Baby lay there without saying anything.

At a distance stood a mangy Goat with a crooked teeth and a matted coat, weary eyes and worn, chipped & twisted horns. Thinking: Maybe I’ll make friends some day with the Cows in the pens and the Rambouillet, but for now I’ll keep away - I got nothin’ smart to say.

But there’s a sign on the barn in the Cabbagetown: WHEN THE RAIN PICKS UP AND THE SUN GOES DOWN, SINNERS, COME INSIDE! WITH NO MONEY, COME AND BUY. NO CLEVER TALK NOR GIFT TO BRING REQUIRES OUR LOWLY, LOVELY KING. COME YOU EMPTYHANDED, YOU DON’T NEED ANYTHING.

And the night was cool and clear as glass with the sneaking Snake in the garden grass, as Deep cried out to Deep, the Disciples fast asleep. And the snake perked up when he heard You ask: if You’re willing that this cup might pass we could find our way back home, maybe start a family all our own...but does not the Father guide the Son? not my will but Yours be done! what else here to do? what else me but You???

And the snake who’d held the world, a stick, a carrot and a string, was crushed beneath the Foot of Your not wanting anything.
 
 
6. bullet to Binary (pt. two)

Let us die, let us die! And, dying, we reply and lower our baskets down into the open bed of the fruit truck passing by. And we can smile at each other again, me and my Cantaloupe Friend, cast our cares as a couple of Pears put a Blueberry garland on an Apple’s head. The Apple threw our half-baked fears like a wooden shoe in the windmill gear. The turning stopped and we clearly saw: the flaw is in that which finds the flaw! The Strawberry said to the Tangerine: My face is red but our hats are green. Be it orchard or a curling vine, the Sun of yours is the Sun that’s mine.

Ya subhannallah
hayyul Qayyum
Subhannallahi Amma Yassifun
Sallalah wallah Muhammad (Sal.)
Ya Rabbi sali alaihi wa salim


Lettuce grows, lettuce grows in neatly sectioned beds and rows, but one day asked the Gardener to be moved to where the Eggplant goes. The reason being, I must confess, I adore her shining, purple dress! As the Eggplant listened in, she wasn’t offended but she wasn’t impressed. The Potato called from underground: You’ve got it all turned upside-down. Does the Rain that’s sent each spring anew to fall on her not fall on you? You project on her your inward scenes, she’s a blank, external movie screen. But the One who looks out from your eyes looks through hers and looks through mine.

We all well know, we’re gonna reap what we sow. We all well know, we’re gonna reap what we sow. So may we old-fashionably suggest the Unmarried not undress? We well know we’re gonna reap what we sow. We all well know, we’re gonna reap what we sow. We all well know what kind of crops are gonna grow. From each time you disrespect your parents, you better hope we don’t hear it! We who know: you’re gonna reap what you sow.

We all well know, we’re gonna reap what we sow. But Grace, we all know, can take the place of all we owe. So why not let’s Forgive everyone everywhere everything all the time... everyone everywhere everything all the time... everyone everywhere everything all the time... 

All the time everyone everywhere everything. (x6)
 
 
7. Timothy hay

On a cold December, just before dawn, as the sun said Hello! to the sky, the Mantis prayed while the Lamellicorn tunneled and rolled in a threadbare tie. When the Holland Lops in the Karakung Glades indignantly thump their feet and hopped away when they cut their noses on the sharp-tipped blades (which the grass doesn’t mind in the least). And there’s a heat-pat waiting in the chicken-wire hutch where the does from the Netherlands stay, but that dry alfalfa don’t taste like much and we’re tired of the Timothy hay. (hay)

I touched her back, she was lying facedown, the dew turned to frost in her eyes. Me and Sister Margaret on the Pentagon lawn with our wrists in a plastic tie. While the rats by the tracks on these winter days seeking shelter from the cold, make a nest from the tracts of our various ways that they can save their immortal souls.

No Timothy hay.
Oh no..., Timothy hay?
Oh no..., Timothy hay?
Oh no..., Timothy hay?
Oh no..., Timothy hay?
Oh no..., Timothy hay?
Please no more Timothy hay.
No more Timothy hay.
Oh no, no more Timothy hay.
No, no more Timothy hay.
Oh no, no more Timothy hay.
No more Timothy hay.

On a cold December, just after dusk, as the sun bid its cordial goodbyes, we’ll be split to pieces like an apple seed husk to reveal the tree that’s been hidden inside. Which sapling called in a tattered sarong as the seeds from the Shepherd’s Purse fell, broke the news to Mom, we found a better Mom we call ‘God,’ which she took quite well, singing:

What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God, what a beautiful God You must be!
 
 
8. Fig with a Bellyache

The Camel in the desert took a ship across the lake while the Fish in search of water found a Fig with a bellyache, who overheard the waves as they headed for the shore: We’re not so sure of separations anymore.

At the Caterpillar picnic, Brother Butterfly stole a rhubarb stem, licked and dipped it in the sugar bowl. Caught out for Massachusetts in a double-stack train through the Adirondacks spinning like a weathervane. Gathering & cutting & splitting & stacking the wood, our fuel is neatly piled and we all feel good.

We pretend to care and like we understand, our eyes go soft but know it now: What we’re thinking about’s your mammary glands and how to sail your birth canal. We found the pot that fit the lid no less now then when we were smarter did. Our thoughts are like a tea bag on the saucer, all the flavor gone.

That Dog below our waist’s aroused, as arms embraced the pretty Gals. It came much more as a surprise, it happening while I hugged the guys. We planted for the final frost, we once were found and now we’re lost. We got a heck of a lot to learn about remaining Taciturn.
 
 
9. Cattail Down
 
Cattail Down, the morning rail yard whistle blows. Cattail Down, our boxcar bound for no-one-knows. After every hidden seed out from its covering has been free and every book has been discarded from the bookshelf. Cattail Down, in the forgetting of myself. Cattail Down, replace the feathers in our vest. Cattail Down, surround the ivy that’s gone to poison in my chest. The Parachute broke loose!, cried the Goose with misplaced (but understandable) concern for his little Brother’s mental health, his happy little Brother in the forgetting of himself. Cattail Down, around the bulrush the pollen shed. Cattail Down, to dress my wounds, it left a Bee sting in their stead.

Have been anger thoughts from out my head

Headed east out of St. Paul we stopped for water, rested in the cemetery, watched the Mississippi. Running out of food stamps, found a bag along the footpath off highway 61, filled with what looked like marijuana. [don’t worry, Mom, we left it there...] Hopped a grainer out of Pig’s Eye toward Milwaukee, the Deer between the tower and the tracks saw right through us, said: You don’t know where you came from, you don’t know where you’re going. You think you’re you, but you don’t know who you are, you’re not you... you’re Everyone Else.

You’re Everyone Else...


From an
interview in HM Magazine:
"[...] Other songs, like "Cattail Down", mix the two together. Our vocalist Aaron is recounting experiences that he’s had as a drifter - traveling on trains and hitchhiking; as well as incorporating the teachings of Bawa Muhaiyaddeen and Christianity by referring to the losing of one’s self: "You don’t know where you came from, you don’t know where you’re going / You think you’re you, but you don’t know who you are / You’re not you, you’re everyone else."
 
 
10. the King Beetle on a Coconut Estate

As the Moon rose and the hour grew late, the day help on a Coconut estate raked up the dry leaves that fell dead from the Trees, which they burned in a pile by the lake. The Beetle King summoned his men, and from the top of the Rhododendron stem: Calling all volunteers who can carry back here, the Great Mystery’s been lit once again. One Beetle emerged from the crowd in a fashionable abdomen shroud, said: I’m a Professor, you see, that’s no mystery to me... I’ll be back soon, successful and proud. But when the Beetle Professor returned he crawled on all six, as his wings had been burned, and described to the finest detail all he’d learned. There was neither a light nor a heat in his words. The deeply dissatisfied King climbed the same stem to announce the same thing, but in his second appeal sought to sweeten the deal with a silver Padparadscha ring. The Lieutenant stepped out from the line as he lassoed his thorax with twine, thinking: I’m stronger and braver and I’ll earn the King’s favor. One day all he has will be mine! But for all the Lieutenant’s conceit he, too, returned singed and admitting defeat: I had no choice, please believe, but retreat... it was bright as the sun, but with ten times the heat! And it cracked like the thunder and bloodshot my eyes, though smothered with sticks it advanced undeterred. Carelessly cast an ash cloud to the sky, my Lord, like a flock of dark, vanishing birds.

The Beetle King slammed down his fist: Your flowery description’s no better than his! We sent for the Great Light and you bring us this? We didn’t ask what it seems like, we asked what it IS! His Majesty’s hour at last has drawn nigh! The elegant Queen took her leave from his side, without understanding but without asking why, gathered their Kids to come bid their goodbyes. And the father explained: You’ve been somewhat deceived... We’ve all called me your dad, but your True Dad’s not me. I lay next to your mom and your forms were conceived, your Father is the Life within all that you see. He fills up the ponds as He empties the clouds, holds without hands and He speaks without sounds, provides us with the Cow’s waste and coconuts to eat, giving one that nice salt-taste and the other a sweet. Sends the black carriage the day Death shows its face, thinning our numbers with Kindness and Grace. And just as a Flower and its Fragrance are one so must each of you and your Father become. Now distribute my scepter, my crown and my throne and all we’ve known as ‘wealth’ to the poor and alone... Without further hesitation, without looking back home, the King flew headlong into the blazing unknown! And as the Smoke King curled higher and higher, the troops, flying loops ’round the telephone wires, they said: Our Beloved’s not dead, but His Highness instead has been utterly changed into Fire!!!

Why not be utterly changed into Fire?...
 
 
11. Allah, Allah, Allah (note: Allah is the Arabic word for God)

In everywhere we look (x6)
Allah, Allah, Allah!
In everywhere we look

In everyone we meet (x6)
Allah, Allah, Allah!
In everyone we meet

In every blade of grass (x6)
Allah, Allah, Allah!
In every blade of grass

It doesn’t matter what you done
It doesn’t matter what you done
What effect is without a cause?
It doesn’t matter what you done
Now lay your faithless head down
in necessity’s Cotton Hand
There’s a love that never changes
No matter what you done

If your old man did you wrong (x3)
Well maybe his old man did him wrong
If you care to sing forgiveness songs
Come down and join our band
And we’ll cut you like sword
And sing forgiveness songs

Everywhere we look (x5)
It’s all crazy
It’s all false
It’s all a dream
It’s alright
Everywhere we look
 
 
 
 
 
 
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