Our Little Life
“We are such stuff as
dreams are made on;
and our little life is
rounded with a sleep.”
- William Shakespeare
in The Tempest
“We are such stuff as dreams
are made on;
and our little life is rounded
with a sleep.”
Capo V
C G C G / D C FG C
We see; we think. We think; we
believe.
We believe so hard until we stop
to see.
The stories we tell ourselves
compel
us into action like a sleepwalker
strolling through the streets.
We believe the stories we tell
ourselves
as if they were real, but really
they're only in our heads.
So I wish you sweet dreams, but
if you prefer nightmares,
the choice is yours. Pick your
dreams carefully and beware.
Interlude
“We are such stuff as dreams
are made on;
and our little life is rounded
with a sleep.”
Recurrence of the Benign
“I laid my heart open
to the benign indifference of the universe. To feel it so like
myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I'd been happy,
and that I was happy still.”
-
Albert Camus' Meursault
in The Stranger
You can look around the world and
see
nothing but trouble and woe.
You can curse everything that you
find
and never come to know
a life outside of your own mind,
which is nothing but a dream,
but if you take a closer look,
things aren't always what they
seem.
Capo IV
A G / F A / A G / F G A
- :||
So
don't you worry, and don't you fret.
The
universe is benign and indifferent.
So
turn your face towards the sun,
feel
its touch so soft and warm,
relax
your weary mind,
and
open up your heart.
F G / A F - A - / G A /
/ / F G A -
I'm not claiming to have seen
the light,
maybe just slightest glimpse.
I try to take this insight to
heart,
but my mind still tends to slip
back into that self-absorbed mode
of I, me, and mine,
until these words resound clear
as a bell,
tolling through my mind. They
say...
And so it goes, on and on.
This answer is not an end.
It's a fit and start that comes
back to you
time and time again.
You're still bound to get caught
up in those whirlwinds,
those tangles of this and that,
but if you keep your ears open,
before too long
you'll hear these words echo
back. And they'll say...
Great Beauty
“The first thing to
see when you come to India—for God's sake don't see the poverty,
like an old colonizer. Don't see the poverty. Don't see that. See the
beauty of the people. When you see the tremendous beauty of the
people of India, then you see India. Poverty is a different thing.”
- Pierre Ceyrac
You've got the gall to suggest to
me
that the state of my country is a
travesty.
Looking down from atop your high
horse,
you say the land that I come from
is a slum.
Well, look at you with all of
your answers;
tell me: where does happiness
lie?
What if all this thinking that
you call enlightened
was more of a burden in disguise?
Dm C / Dm Am / / C B7 :||
My
home is a land of great beauty:
you'll
see what you come looking for.
Dm Am C B7 / C B7 Am - B7
You say that you've seen all
there is to see
of this cold and desperate heart.
You say there never was any hope
for me,
that I never could love you from
the start.
But there's more warmth in my
heart for you
than you could ever know.
I'm sorry I couldn't seem to let
it show,
but that doesn't mean my heart
doesn't glow.
In
my heart there is a space of great beauty:
I
don't know what I keep it locked away from.
I try to understand how you must
feel,
at least as much as I can.
It's been ringing in your ears
all of your life:
that you're not beautiful like
them.
And it's all so pervasive. There
seems no escape.
I'd get caught by it to if I were
you.
So many looks are there to
confirm it,
but those glares only obscure the
truth.
Your
body is bounding with great beauty:
look
beyond what they've got you striving for.
You say that you've taken a good
look inside and out,
that you've grown bitter from all
that you've seen,
that there seems to be only anger
and fear
and boundless self-serving greed.
Sure, in this life there are
plenty of dregs,
and they can get caught in your
throat;
but there's plenty of sweetness
to wash them away.
I hope you can find where it
flows.
This
life is overflowing with great beauty:
you'll
see it if you only look a little more.
Blessed Are the Forgetful
“Blessed are the forgetful:
for they get the better
even of their
blunders.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Aren't we so blessed
to live with no regrets,
never bothering to look back
at those things we don't want to
see?
C - A - :|| (4x)
Blessed
are the forgetful:
for
they get the better
even
of their blunders.
C - F - / / A G C -
Bad mistakes, maybe I made a few.
If I did, I never knew.
My life just passes me by.
My life is out beyond my sight.
Maybe time is just an illusion.
Maybe the past has never been.
If only I could believe that,
maybe I could start over again.
Yours and Mine
“Better to die on
one's feet,
than to live on one's
knees.”
- Albert Camus
Get up on your feet.
Get up off your knees.
Stand up straight and tall.
You've got dignity after all.
D - G - :|| (4x)
Better
that you die on your feet,
then to live your life on your
knees. (2x)
F C / F G :||
You can say, “Yes'm.” You can
say, “Yes sir.”
You can bow your head and hide
away the hurt.
You can let them colonize your
mind.
If you give it up, they'll take
all of your time.
This world is yours and mine.
Let's stake our claim; it's about
time.
It's about time and stepping
back.
It's about finding our own path.
Commitment
“If we take in our
hand any volume; of divinity or school metaphysics, for instance; let
us ask, Does it contain any abstract reasoning concerning quantity or
number? No. Does it contain any experimental reasoning concerning
matter of fact and existence? No. Commit it then to the flames: for
it can contain nothing but sophistry and illusion.”
- David Hume
If the stories that you have
heard
break down and become absurd
when exposed to the light of your
life,
don't hold on to such nonsense.
This malicious cancer must
be exacted from your heart with a
knife.
Capo II
Dm Am / Dm Am / Dm E7 Am -
:||
Commit
it then into the flames
for
it contains
nothing
but sophistry and illusion.
Am Dm / E7 Am / F Fm Am -
Bridge:
Dm Am / Dm E7 :||
Those ancient stories from the
past,
they were never built to last.
They were just stepping stones
along the way.
Grasp onto them if you must,
but if you can muster up the
nerve to trust
that the truth will appear only
once they are tossed away, then commit them...
Take heed. Don't move too fast.
Separate the wheat from the
chaff.
Wildflowers often bloom amongst
the weeds.
Some of those lessons may still
ring true,
so take to heart the ones that
do.
Let your life show you what you
believe, and commit the rest...
Faith Begins
“[F]aith begins
precisely where thinking leaves off.”
- Søren Kierkegaard
Does the possibility of a
teleological suspension
of the ethical scare the living
bejesus out of you?
Does that dark feeling creep in
whenever you begin
to entertain this twisted notion
in your brain?
Could there ever be a way that
Abraham could slay
his own beloved son, and God
would cry out, “Hip, hip, hooray!”
G F C G / C G F G C -
In case you get to thinking that
this is just an abstraction,
that this kind of thing could
never happen, just open your eyes it happens every day.
Suicide bombers claiming Allah,
cruise missiles guided by the dollar,
killing innocent civilians.
Ethics is suspended for unseen ends.
If faith begins right where
thinking leaves off
then the coin has been tossed,
but I'm choosing neith heads nor tails.
This blind faith in a master
whether it be
God or country just leads to
utter absurdity.
If your master would have you
slaughter on a whim,
you can take him, but I'll leave
him. Give me hell in exchange for peace of mind.
Though I try to keep above it
all, I've come to realize
complacency is compliance; my
hands are washed in the blood of my silence.
So I just want to say before it's
too late,
“Can't we stop all this madness
and learn to just let each other be?”
If I'm gonna have faith in
anything at all,
here's how it's gonna be: I'm
putting my faith in you and me.
Room to Breathe
“Live to the point of tears.”
- Albert Camus
Well, you know that I'd love to
make music with you.
You know that I'd love to talk
the whole night through.
You know that I'd love to be a
true, close friend,
but I see myself falling short
yet again.
Capo III
D G / D A / D G / G F A
-
But I'll pick myself up and find
the will to try.
Let that river of regret flow
through my eyes.
If I find another lover maybe I
can atone,
until then I'll be making music
on my own.
Interlude
Before you came along I was
barely even here.
Music was playing, but I turned a
def ear.
The joyful song of you was a
breath of fresh air,
and when you left at least I felt
the despair.
I can still find reason to sing.
It's dimmer, but I still see the
beauty in things.
And on those nights when it gets
real cold,
I've still got the memory of your
love to hold me.
Interlude
Once upon a time it felt so
right,
but I guess that feeling faded
out of your sight.
I never meant to cause you any
pain,
never saw that you felt you had
to stay.
Thanks for loving me in spite of
your fears,
for being there all those years.
You taught me how to live to the
point of tears,
to live a little more free.
It's sad sometimes but there's a
little more room to breathe.
Sliced Fruit
“Sometimes we are not sure: 'Am I really worth sliced fruit today?' A friend says her mother used to tease her when she did something for herself: 'My aren't we feeling good about ourselves today?' Well I say, 'What a fine thing to do! - for yourself or for loved ones.'“
- Edward Espe Brown
Are you worth sliced fruit?
Do you deserve to receive such a
treat?
Cutting that apple up might take
an entire minute;
and you're sure to dirty a knife,
and then you'll have to wash it;
and that whole process by the
time it's done
might take another minute.
So in case you're worried you're
not good enough
no matter how you spin it,
let
me reassure you of this universal truth:
you're
always worth sliced fruit.
Capo V
Fm C E7 Am / Fm C AmE7 Am
:|| (3x)
Fm C AmE7 Am / Fm E7 Am -
Interlude:
F Am E7 Am :||
E7 Am E7 Am
Are you worth the time of day?
Even in those times when you've
got nothing to say?
When your anxiety wants you to
crawl into a whole,
or your inferiority complex tells
you everyone thinks you're a fool?
Even in those times when you
can't help but feeling down?
So in case you get to worrying
that no one wants you around,
let
me be the one to put that nonsense at bay:
you're
always worth the time of day.
Are you worth the air you
breathe?
Have you done enough work to earn
your keep?
Do thoughts of this nature ever
keep you from sleep?
Well, who do you suppose sowed
the seeds
of these worries that you reap?
Looking down there noses at you
from their plush seats,
and trickling down a few pennies
to the ones who sow their seams.
So
take as deep of a breath as you please,
the
air you breathe is always free.
Yeah,
the air we breathe is always free.
What You Have Done
“Freedom is what you
do
with what's been done
to you.”
- Jean-Paul Sartre
You're leaving with Monday
morning.
You'll be gone by the break of
dawn.
You're leaving with Monday
morning,
and nothing I could say would
convince you to stay.
Capo II
F G C E7 / F G C - / F G
C Am / F C E7 Am
I hold my tongue and turn away
my eyes.
If you turn around, you won't see
me looking down.
I bite my lip and turn away my
eyes,
and pretend not to cry as you say
goodbye.
My tears fall soft like the rain,
but they'll be gone before too
long.
My tears fall soft like the rain.
Still I'll miss them when they're
through
'cause there all that's left of
you.
Interlude
You left with Monday morning.
You were gone by the break of
dawn.
You left with Monday morning,
and nothing I could have said
would have convinced you to stay.
What you've done to me is
something else;
your love was more than I'd ever
known before.
What you've done to me is
something else,
and freedom's what you do with
what is done to you.
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