happens to the heart · happens to the heart i was always working steady but i never called it art...

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3 HAPPENS TO THE HEART I was always working steady But I never called it art I was funding my depression Meeting Jesus reading Marx Sure it failed my little fire But it’s bright the dying spark Go tell the young messiah What happens to the heart There’s a mist of summer kisses Where I tried to double-park The rivalry was vicious And the women were in charge It was nothing, it was business But it left an ugly mark So I’ve come here to revisit What happens to the heart I was selling holy trinkets I was dressing kind of sharp Had a pussy in the kitchen And a panther in the yard In the prison of the gifted I was friendly with the guard So I never had to witness What happens to the heart I should have seen it coming You could say I wrote the chart Just to look at her was trouble It was trouble from the start Sure we played a stunning couple But I never liked the part It ain’t pretty, it ain’t subtle What happens to the heart Now the angel’s got a fiddle And the devil’s got a harp Every soul is like a minnow Every mind is like a shark I’ve opened every window But the house, the house is dark Just say Uncle, then it’s simple What happens to the heart I was always working steady But I never called it art The slaves were there already The singers chained and charred Now the arc of justice bending And the injured soon to march I lost my job defending What happens to the heart

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Page 1: HAPPENS TO THE HEART · HAPPENS TO THE HEART I was always working steady But I never called it art I was funding my depression Meeting Jesus reading Marx Sure it failed my little

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H A P P E N S TO T H E H E A R T

I was always working steadyBut I never called it artI was funding my depressionMeeting Jesus reading MarxSure it failed my little fireBut it’s bright the dying sparkGo tell the young messiahWhat happens to the heart

There’s a mist of summer kissesWhere I tried to double-parkThe rivalry was viciousAnd the women were in chargeIt was nothing, it was businessBut it left an ugly markSo I’ve come here to revisitWhat happens to the heart

I was selling holy trinketsI was dressing kind of sharpHad a pussy in the kitchenAnd a panther in the yardIn the prison of the giftedI was friendly with the guardSo I never had to witnessWhat happens to the heart

I should have seen it comingYou could say I wrote the chartJust to look at her was troubleIt was trouble from the startSure we played a stunning coupleBut I never liked the partIt ain’t pretty, it ain’t subtleWhat happens to the heart

Now the angel’s got a fiddleAnd the devil’s got a harpEvery soul is like a minnowEvery mind is like a sharkI’ve opened every windowBut the house, the house is darkJust say Uncle, then it’s simpleWhat happens to the heart

I was always working steadyBut I never called it artThe slaves were there alreadyThe singers chained and charredNow the arc of justice bendingAnd the injured soon to marchI lost my job defendingWhat happens to the heart

Cohe_9780771024412_6p_all_r1.indd 3 7/18/18 3:17 PM

Page 2: HAPPENS TO THE HEART · HAPPENS TO THE HEART I was always working steady But I never called it art I was funding my depression Meeting Jesus reading Marx Sure it failed my little

I studied with this beggarHe was filthy he was scarredBy the claws of many womenHe had failed to disregardNo fable here no lessonNo singing meadowlarkJust a filthy beggar blessingWhat happens to the heart

I was always working steadyBut I never called it artI could lift, but nothing heavyAlmost lost my union cardI was handy with a rifleMy father’s .303We fought for something finalNot the right to disagree

Sure it failed my little fireBut it’s bright the dying sparkGo tell the young messiahWhat happens to the heart

June 24, 2016

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Page 3: HAPPENS TO THE HEART · HAPPENS TO THE HEART I was always working steady But I never called it art I was funding my depression Meeting Jesus reading Marx Sure it failed my little

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Page 4: HAPPENS TO THE HEART · HAPPENS TO THE HEART I was always working steady But I never called it art I was funding my depression Meeting Jesus reading Marx Sure it failed my little

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I D O

I do, I love you MaryMore than I can sayCuz if I ever said itThey’d take us both away

They’d lock us up for nothingAnd throw away the keyThe world don’t like us MaryThey’re on to you and me

We got a minute MaryBefore they pull the plug50 seconds maybeYou know that’s not enough

30 seconds babyIs all we got to loveAnd if they catch us laughingThey gonna rough us up

I do, I love you MaryMore than I can sayCuz if I ever said itThey’d take us both away

They’d lock us up for nothingAnd throw away the keyThe world don’t like us MaryThey’re on to you and me

Cohe_9780771024412_6p_all_r1.indd 6 7/18/18 3:17 PM

Page 5: HAPPENS TO THE HEART · HAPPENS TO THE HEART I was always working steady But I never called it art I was funding my depression Meeting Jesus reading Marx Sure it failed my little

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L A M B C H O P S

thinking of those lambchopsat Moishe’s the other night

we all taste good to one anothermost bodies are good to eateven reptiles and insects

even the poisonous lutefisk of Norwayburied in the dirt a million years before servingand the poisonous blowfish of Japancan be prepared to insure reasonable risksat the table

if the crazy god did not want us to eat one anotherwhy make our flesh so sweet

I heard it on the radioa happy rabbit at the rabbit farmsaying to the animal psychic

don’t be sadit’s lovely herethey’re so good to us

we’re not the only onessaid the rabbit comforting her

everyone gets eatenas the rabbit saidto the animal psychic

2006

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Page 7: HAPPENS TO THE HEART · HAPPENS TO THE HEART I was always working steady But I never called it art I was funding my depression Meeting Jesus reading Marx Sure it failed my little

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N O T I M E TO C H A N G E

No time to changeThe backward lookIt’s much too lateMy gentle book

Too late to makeThe men ashamedFor what they doWith naked flames

Too late to fallUpon my swordI have no swordIt’s 2005

How dare I careWhat’s on my plateO gentle bookYou’re much too late

You missed the pointOf poetryIt’s all about themNot about me

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I D I D N ’ T K N O W

I knew that I was weakI knew that you were strongI did not dare to kneelWhere I did not belong

And if I meant to touchYour beauty with my handThen come the boils and bloodWhich I would understand

You tore your knees apartThe loneliness revealedThat drew this unborn heartFrom chains that would not yield

But weakened by your exerciseYou fell against my soulThe stricken soul the mind deniesUntil you make it whole

So I can love your beauty nowThough seeming from afarUntil my neutral world allowHow intimate you are

Sometimes it gets so lonelyI don’t know what to doI’d trade my stash of boredomFor a little hit of you

I didn’t knowI didn’t knowI didn’t knowHow much you needed me

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I C A N ’ T TA K E I T A N Y M O R E

O apple of the worldwe weren’t married on the surfacewe were married at the coreI can’t take it anymore

surely there must bea limit for the richand a hope unto the poorI can’t take it anymore

and the lies that they tellabout G-das if they owned the storeI can’t take it anymore

Cohe_9780771024412_6p_all_r1.indd 11 7/18/18 3:17 PM