A winter’s day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.

I am a rock, I am an island.

I’ve built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain.

I am a rock, I am an island.

Don’t talk of love,
Well, I’ve heard the word before.
It’s sleeping in my memory.
I won’t disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.

I am a rock, I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.

I am a rock, I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

Slip sliding away
Slip sliding away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you’re slip sliding away

I know a man
He came from my hometown
He wore his passion for his woman like a thorny crown
He said “Delores, I live in fear,
My love for you so overpowering I’m afraid that I will disappear.”

Slip sliding away
Slip sliding away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you’re slip sliding away

And I know a woman
Became a wife
These are the very words she uses to describe her life
She said “A good day ain’t got no rain…”
She said “A bad day is when I lie in bed and I think of things that might have been.”

Slip sliding away
Slip sliding away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you’re slip sliding away

And I know a father who had a son
He longed to tell him all the reasons for the things he’d done
He came a long way just to explain
He kissed his boy as he lay sleeping, then he turned around and he headed home again

Slip sliding away
Slip sliding away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you’re slip sliding away

And God only knows
And God makes his plan
The information’s unavailable to the mortal man
We’re workin’ our jobs
Collect our pay
Believe we’re gliding down the highway
When if fact we’re slip sliding away

Slip sliding away
Slip sliding away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you’re slip sliding away

Slip sliding away
Slip sliding away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you’re slip sliding away

Time, time, time
See what’s become of me

Time, time, time
See what’s become of me
While I looked around
For my possibilities
I was so hard to please

Look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky
Is a hazy shade of winter

Hear the salvation army band
Down by the riverside
It’s bound to be a better ride
Than what you’ve got planned
Carry a cup in your hand

Look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky
Is a hazy shade of winter

Hang on to your hopes my friend
That’s an easy thing to say
But if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend
That you can build them again

Look around
Grass is high
Fields are ripe
It’s the springtime of my life

Seasons change with the scenery
Weaving time in a tapestry
Won’t you stop and remember me

Look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky
It’s a hazy shade of winter

Look around
Leaves are brown
There’s a patch of snow on the ground

Winter is the Best Time

by David Budbill

Winter is the best time
to find out who you are.

Quiet, contemplation time,
away from the rushing world,

cold time, dark time, holed-up
pulled-in time and space

to see that inner landscape,
that place hidden and within.

 

 

The Boxer

I am just a poor boy.
Though my story’s seldom told,
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles,
Such are promises
All lies and jest
Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.

When I left my home
And my family,
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station,
Running scared,
Laying low,
Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go,
Looking for the places
Only they would know.

Lie-la-lie…

Asking only workman’s wages
I come looking for a job,
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores
On Seventh Avenue
I do declare,
There were times when I was so
lonesome
I took some comfort there.

Lie-la-lie…

Then I’m laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone,
Going home
Where the New York City winters
Aren’t bleeding me,
Leading me,
Going home.

In the clearing stands a boxer,
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev’ry glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame,
“I am leaving, I am leaving.”
But the fighter still remains.

With appreciation to NPR for their story and an introduction to these songs of the season….The Bard of Bad Weather….

The lamp is burnin’ low upon my table top
The snow is softly falling
The air is still within the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly calling
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
Upon this winter night with you

The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead
My glass is almost empty
I read again between the lines upon each page
The words of love you sent me

If I could know within my heart
That you were lonely too
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
Upon this winter night with you

The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim
The shades of night are liftin’
The morning light steals across my windowpane
Where webs of snow are driftin’

If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
Just to be once again with you.

To be once again with with you.

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