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Doug Manring Lyrics
The
Arrow & The Bird
The skeptic shot her arrows, never quite taking aim,
It was all just kind of a hobby…
Taking stabs in this stagnant game.
But her arrows were dipped in poison…pessimistic, cruel…prescise,
Culled from the depths of her apathy,
Toxic…and cold as ice.
The bird never saw it coming, as he cruised the morning skies,
Then the sting of the arrow piercing…
A sudden gasp, and tears in his eyes.
The skeptic leaned back and chuckled, and the trophy-maker got his knife,
But the bird left them dumbfounded…
Kept flying on for his life.
The bird kept flying westward, with the arrow stuck in his side,
Though it cut through the skin and near his heart…
It couldn't get to his pride.
Border Story
An ancient feather headdress, a timeless naive grin,
He's leaning on the turnstile looking at the state we're in,
"Say Brother, can you tell me just what you hope to win…?
Don't you know it's all the same, once you're under the skin…"
He laughed out loud at your reply, like he knew just what you'd say,
He rustled his head of feathers, that he sometimes gave away,
"Thanks for the conversation, Brother… now I must be on my way,
Here's a token of my faith, we'll meet here again some day…"
But the gargoyles on the turnstile glared down as the Featherman grined,
(You know the type - with hearts of stone… thick, grey, scaly-skined),
"We're the Bastions of Reality… the hard line… no rescind…
You crazy fool! Don't cross that line… our flag just shuddered in the
wind!"
With arms outstretched, out on the edge, but at the end of a narrow sight…
A sweating, rigid finger… and the sound of shattered light.
The smile of his freedom, but eyes of frozen pain,
Stared like stone, unmoving rock… at the flag stained in the rain.
This face I've seen before, many nights I lay in bed,
Looks more and more like me, can't stop the ringing in my head.
Bursting from this dream, watching myself run,
Everyone else is staring… can't believe what I've done,
In the distance falling, his feathers floating down,
Moving in slow-motion, I…
The Future
The future is an animal,
Two-headed, four-faced, and wild…
A groping, writhing, taunting, spoilt child.
So keep your balance, ride it , but be carefull not to find yourself beguiled…
The future is a flavor,
That elite, elusive condiment residing among…
Our hopes and promise… a taste that leaves you young.
So relish and savor briefly, but be carefull that you do not burn your tongue.
Take a stab, make a grab, open your hand… and nothing is there…
It's faded away… run after… toward the horizon,
(It's just ahead)… but keeps slipping away… so close (yet so far),
Chasing… you run (it runs)… you walk (it walks)… you crawl…
A form-fit glove (a silhouette)… you can taste it… smell it…
But just as you POUNCE!!… and this animal is gone… gone away…
Leaving you where… ? Where?
The
Gate
The scent of night, but an ugly night… and a wilderness desolate,
Faith and daylight dwindle, and the heart pounds… desperate.
Crouching in the shadows as the vultures wait,
Just another wanderer has strayed outside The Gate…
Through the murk, the feasters howl… (their shrieking animate)
To lead this frightened child astray… (temptations articulate)
But beyond the wild, a stirring, and perceptions all vibrate,
Beyond those senses that get lost in the world outside The Gate.
"Though you cannot see us all, though you may not know which way to crawl,
Stand and hold fast to our call… in case you start to fall.
Just remember what's at stake, close your eyes for your own sake,
Pinch yourself to stay awake… just as many times as it might take… "
Step-by-step, hand-in-hand…
Running just ahead, just ahead of those fears,
Running from those greedy grasps, with shielded eyes and ringing ears,
Stumbling through the dark, clutching fast to The Wire,
Leading on to The Oasis, through a ring of fire.
Closer to The Gate…
It's
Not Fair
The napkins all folded, the kids have been fed,
Clasping her hands, she bows her head…
She's waiting… sitting by the door.
"It's not fair… I've waited a lifetime…
For a fleeting glimpse… and it's not fair…"
Day and night the telephone rings,
To get above his deadlines he'd need to have wings,
He's falling… grasping for the door.
"It's not fair… I've worked a whole lifetime…
For a fleeting glimpse… and it's not fair…"
Different roads meet at the same dead end,
Two cars pull up, and two souls depend,
On the billboards they followed, just part of the trend,
Check into the hotel where lost ones pretend.
They are back-to-back in separate rooms,
Cooking separate excuses that neither consumes,
They stare at their platters, getting sick of the fumes,
Run into each other as they run from these tombs.
Marionette
Hushed voices, strangely distant… the words get lost in echoes,
In a blur of motion, there's a picture of flowers… I can't take my eyes off of.
Like the flowers, I'm in a frame… positioned in the center…
The Guest of Honor.
Like a Marionette… suspended in time… dangling on the end of The Wire.
Out of the haze, a painted smile… a stroke across my hair,
Appearing like clockwork (Monday morning)… jogging my memory.
A trembling hand, lines from a script… and me…
The Captive Audience.
Like a Marionette… suspended in transit… just barely holding on to The
Wire.
Mechanical butlers pressing and poking this tired old pincushion,
So I'll go with the flow, direct-feed to dinner (can't beat the service…)
I'm at your disposal… encase me in glass…
I'm your Monument.
Like a Marionette… suspended in time… dangling on the end of The Wire.
Like a Marionette… suspended in flux… waiting for The Wire to break.
I lost my watch, so I'm in no hurry…
Waiting for the ferry at the edge of the River…
Looking back, looking forward… like an endless movie…
Through the viewer of my camera… surveying the new fronteer.
Standing at the station, waiting to transfer…
Hanging from a cliff, swaying in the wind…
From my rope, from my tether… the fabric is tearing,
I surrender… everything is white.
Not desolate, no pain… no more,
Nothing to fear, I've done this before,
Just waiting… for this Wire to break…
Reconciled, no regrets… all is forgiven, no outstanding debts,
Just waiting… for this Wire to break…
Oasis
Sweat away your life, it is soaked up by the sand,
You're looking for an oasis that's probably right at hand.
End up going in circles, your senses have gone numb,
Lost in your own shadow, just look at what you've become…
Images drifting from a pool of dreams for as far as you can see,
Carried by the desert breeze right from your memory.
It takes some time to digest, but the vision will not die,
It will lead you to The Oasis, with a well that won't run dry.
"Our nectar's co-ol…", neon-light mirage, parades of vending machines.
Aimlessly you cheer them on, but you don't know what it means.
All you've seen are hollow ghosts, revolving on a carousel,
Keep clearing your dusty throat to shake off this desert spell.
Ripples fan out from a pool of time and wash up waves of doubt,
Lapping at your conscience, you cannot keep them out.
It has taken some time to grasp, but your hand is brushing by,
Within your reach, The Oasis, with a well that won't run dry.
Incomplete and out of breath, you stop the running wheel.
Not content to play the mouse, start to sort out what you feel.
This wasteland has brought you nothing, you start to understand,
All around you is a blur, you stare at your open hand…
Reflected in a pool from the deepest sea, the light dancing on your face,
Brushed by the ever-shifting winds that all meet at this place,
It has taken some time to get this far, but you no longer need to try,
You're standing at The Oasis, with a well that won't run dry…
The
River
There's a River running by a tree, by it's side I'm carried away…
There's a River running parallel, between our hearts it plays…
There's a River sparkling in the sun, there's a timeless picture frame,
There's a River of precious memories, echoing your name…
There's a child crouching by the riverside, all alone, his eyes are wide,
Full of thoughts he hopes will ride, his toy boat he called, "The Dreamer"
From his pocket of treasures, there came a crew,
Seven toy soldiers with no war to go to… and a good luck figure,
His eyes were blue, became the captain of his dreams.
The child spoke, you could hear him say, "My dear boat, I can't play today…
This River will take you a long, long way, and maybe you'll reach the sea,
I have to go now, so do you… we each have a River that we're flowing to,
Part of me will always ride with you…"
He let go and went off to school.
There's an old man sitting by the riverside, he's all alone and dreamy-eyed,
A weather-worn boat of a child's pride, washed up by his feet…
By The River winds blow through the trees, blowing time and seasons by,
And The River reflects your face to me… sometimes it makes me cry.
Tightrope Walker
My arms out straight, but they're starting to tire,
My feet have gotten sore from walking on The Wire.
They say that from above… they say it's quite a sight,
But I can't see enough, though it's getting kind of bright.
So I master the danger, but I'm also it's slave,
An obsession I'll cling to 'till I fall to my grave,
But I love the view from atop of this Wire,
If I ever get bored, I could raise it up higher…
So the scenery changes, but The Wire remains,
Sometimes I feel like I've just dropped the reins,
And though I go numb and my memory black,
It's always an option, but I'll never turn back…
And I master the danger, I remain it's slave,
This obsession I've been born with will chase me to my grave,
But I sure love the view… way up on The Wire,
And if I ever got tired, I could set myself on fire…
People come and watch, making many, many faces,
I remember them all… like exotic places.
Those sneers… those squints… so hard to love,
Up on The Wire, but not always above.
Now they've brought out a net… it's stretched out below,
Just how big it is, I don't really know.
It might have some holes, it might be too old,
I might be too heavy… it just might not hold…
I could jump, I might fly… or maybe just fall… it's tempting to try,
Maybe feel as free as an eagle in flight, or wind-up like a Marionette on a kite.
A savior emerged, she threw me a rope,
"Hang on tight now, and don't give up hope…"
I thought, "What hope have I lost, what does she want me to hold?"
"We want you back, come on back to the fold…"
"Don't get me wrong (and thanks for the rope),
But I'm all tangled up on your passions and hope…
I see myself hanging here like bait on a hook,
And you play the hero, like from an old story book…
I can't live with this vision, so I'm cutting your rope,
I'll live with my chances, I'll live on my hope."
Her rope fell away… I waved goodbye,
Back on The Wire, looking up at the sky…
My arms out straight, my eyes have the fire,
My feet have gotten used to walking on The Wire,
So I'm still here, I haven't fallen yet,
I harbor no excuses, I harbor no regret…
Bye bye… bye bye
Two
Lives (2nd version)
Stary-eyed lovers whisper good-byes, we just can't live two lives.
The tissue box is empty, the hero proudly dies, "I wish I had two lives"
Flickering lights on tear-stained cheeks,
A thousand voices echo every line she speaks.
Every Saturday night this movie house sighs, but we just don't have two lives.
Crawling towards my deadlines dragging comprimise,
We just can't live two lives.
I'm slower than a snail, and time just flies, "I wish I had two lives"
One cup at a time, I'm filling up a sea,
With the pools of sweat that are pouring off of me
My ladle's too small for a job this size, but we just don't have two lives.
Staring at nothing with far away eyes, we just can't live two lives.
A tap on my shoulder, a ghost who cries, "I wish I had two lives"
Grasping for a feeling I can't explain,
A nudge in the night, unscheduled train,
I've got a wild imagination, a soul on the rise,
I could swear sometimes that I'm living two lives.
The
Wake
A thin, white thread on a vast and deep… a deep blue sea,
Like a comet… stubborn, fast and free.
No one to leave this Wake but me,
Where no one has been, nor could ever be.
I drive, I drive… and the sky I see,
Invites a waltz with destiny,
For I will cherish each memory…
Before they fade into debris.
We have woven a fabric over countless nights and days,
Invisible, yet indelible maze,
Of all eternity's paths and ways…
The Wakes dissolve… but each avenue stays.
Look around, look ahead, where the sunlight plays,
Look behind at where your heritage lays,
Entwined with those you've held in praise…
Now unite, and proceed as the spirit stays:
* "Exultation
is the going of an inland soul to sea,
Past the houses, past the headlands, into deep eternity!
Bred as we among the mountains, can the sailor understand
The devine intoxication of the first league out from land?"
"On this wonderous sea, sailing silently, ho! pilot, ho!
Knowest thou the shore where no breakers roar,
Where the storm is o'er?
In the silent west, many sails at rest, their anchors fast;
Tither I pilot thee,
Land, ho! Eternity! Ashore at last!"
*poems by Emily Dickinson, Setting Sail & Eternity
©
2001
Doug Manring
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