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Live Dead

1969

Dark Star
Saint Stephen
The Eleven
Turn On Your Lovelight
Death Don't Have No Mercy
Feedback
And We Bid You Goodnight
 
 
 
Dark Star
Dark star crashes
pouring its light
into ashes

Reason tatters
the forces tear loose
from the axis

Searchlight casting
for faults in the clouds
of delusion

Shall we go,
you and I 
while we can?
Through
the transitive nightfall
of diamonds

Mirror shatters
in formless reflections
of matter

Glass hand dissolving
to ice-petal flowers
revolving

Lady in velvet
recedes
in the nights of good-bye

Shall we go,
you and I
while we can?
Through
the transitive nightfall
of diamonds

spinning a set the stars through which the tattered tales
of axis roll
about the waxen wind of never set to motion in the
unbecoming
round about the reason hardly matters nor the wise
through which
the stars were set in spin

"Though they arranged 'Alligator', 'China Cat Sunflower', and 'Saint Stephen' to lyrics I mailed Garcia from New Mexico, this is the first lyric I wrote with the Grateful Dead." - Robert Hunter

Saint Stephen
Saint Stephen with a rose
In and out of the garden he goes
Country garland in the wind and the rain
Wherever he goes the people all complain

Stephen prospered in his time
Well he may and he may decline
Did it matter? Does it now?
Stephen would answer if he only knew how

Wishing well with a golden bell
Bucket hanging clear to Hell
Hell halfway 'twixt now and then
Stephen fill it up and lower down 
and lower down again

Ladyfinger dipped in moonlight
Writing "What for?" across the morning sky
Sunlight splatters dawn with answers
Darkness shrugs and bids the day good-bye

Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow
What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned
Several seasons with their treasons
Wrap the babe in scarlet covers, call it your own

Did he doubt or did he try?
Answers aplenty in the bye and bye
Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills
One man gathers what another man spills

Saint Stephen will remain 
All he's lost he shall regain
Seashore washed in the suds and the foam
Been here so long he's got to calling it home

Fortune comes acrawling, Calliope woman
Spinning that curious sense of your own
Can you answer? Yes I can
But what would be the answer to the answer man?

High green chilly winds and windy vines in loops around the 
twisted shafts of lavender, they're crawling to the sun

Underfoot the ground is patched with climbing arms of ivy 
wrapped around the manzanita, stark and shiny in the breeze

Wonder who will water all the children of the garden when they 
sigh about the barren lack of rain and droop so hungry 'neath the sky. . . .

William Tell has stretched his bow till it won't stretch no
furthermore and/or it may require a change that hasn't come before

The Eleven
No more time to tell how
This is the season of what
Now is the time of returning
With thought jewels polished and gleaming

Now is the time past believing
The child has relinquished the reign
Now is the test of the boomerang
Tossed in the night of redeeming

Eight-sided whispering hallelujah hatrack
Seven-faced marble eyed transitory dream doll
Six proud walkers on jingle-bell rainbow
Five men writing in fingers of gold
Four men tracking the great white sperm whale
Three girls waiting in a foreign dominion
Ride in the whale belly
Fade away in moonlight
Sink beneath the waters
to the coral sands below
Now is the time of returning