24 July 2016

Paul Simon - The Cool, Cool River

Paul Simon's album "The Rhythm of the Saints" accompanied me on one of my first road trips in the U.S. By the end of the trip I knew all of the songs by heart. Of course, by the end of the trip sadness began casting a shadow over the sunny days - the care free time was running short, the 'normal life' and its hectic and constraints began looming ~ and the closer I go to the end of the road, the more I turned to "The Cool, Cool River" ...  

[Ed. 24.07.16] Another city, another coward spilling blood ... "sometimes even music cannot substitute for tears" ...



The Cool, Cool River

Moves like a fist through traffic
Anger and no one can heal it
Shoves a little bump into the momentum
It's just a little lump but you feel it
In the creases and the shadows
With a rattling deep emotion
The cool, cool river
Sweeps the wild, white ocean



Yes boss, the government handshake
Yes boss, the crusher of language
Yes boss, Mr. Stillwater
The face at the edge of the banquet
The cool, the cool river
The cool, the cool river

I believe in the future I may live in my car
My radio tuned to the voice of a star
Song dogs barking at the break of dawn
Lightning pushes the edge of a thunderstorm
And these old hopes and fears
Still at my side

Anger and no one can heal it
Slides through the metal detector
Lives like a mole in a motel
A slide in a slide projector
The cool, cool river
Sweeps the wild, white ocean
The rage of love turns inward
To prayers of devotion
And these prayers are
The constant road across the wilderness
These prayers are
These prayers are the memory of God
The memory of God

And I believe in the future we shall suffer no more
Maybe not in my lifetime but in yours I feel sure
Song dogs barking at the break of dawn
Lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm
And these streets
Quiet as a sleeping army
Send their battered dreams to heaven, to heaven
For the mother's restless son
Who is a witness to, who is a warrior
Who denies his urge to break and run

Who says: Hard times?
I'm used to them
The speeding planet burns
I'm used to that
My life's so common it disappears
And sometimes even music
Cannot substitute for tears

©1990 Words and Music by Paul Simon

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