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John Hartford

Daytime Of Life

 

Daytime Of Life

(альбом: Earthwords & Music - 1967)


I wake in the dawn of the cold misty dew light
Kicking and drinking warm milk while I'm crying
In the sterilized smell of my unsure surroundings
Feeling warm hands as I'm passed back and forth

And I'm wiggling and crawling and reaching out slowly
Strange sounds at my elbow but no way to make them
The shapes of big colors and lights all around me
Coming to grips with the cold hard linoleum

Pushing and pulling as I travel in circles
Unsure on my knees as I crawl towards the table
Unsteady on legs as I'm finding my balance
My legs stretching out and a wish to go walking

Out in the road in the gravel and sunshine
Out on the earth with my feet in the short grass
The shadows of barn and garage learning quickly
A switch to my bottom and on the bed crying
In the dawn of the morning the vague early morning
At the start of the daytime of life

Standing out here by an old pile of lumber
A long shiny track that's still silently ringing
And the last southbound freight that was two o'clock passing
And I in my Levi's my cigarettes twisted
In the arm of a t-shirt I'm smart like a rooster

You stand here in front of me heavily breathing
Your long brown hair matted with sweat as we're silent
The beads like last Christmas that lay on your bosom
I feel the exploding of some inner self

That's more lasting and longing than the carcass surrounding
The bursting of love that is pleading now for you
That creeps in our eyes and it colors our thinking
And tingles our hands and our arms and our foreheads
As the flesh is now talking in words that are quiet
In the hot afternoon as we're making our plans
As we walk through the daytime of life

A baby comes crying and laughing and kicking
And drinking warm milk as it's handled so gently
And afternoon comes to see three other babies
Playing and running their bodies fast growing

Sundown comes sneaking around by the back door
My joints getting stiffer and moving more slowly
My hair getting thinner and turning to driftwood
Then going downhill in the still of the evening

So peaceful and gentle I'm not in a hurry
Just passing the grave of a friend I once played with
The pine needles soft underfoot as I'm walking
And children come running to guide their grandfather

And if you don't mind I'll just sit in the shadows
And rest and go slowly I'm getting so tired
My head on a pillow a doctor now holding my wrist
As he's feeling the veins barely throbbing

My grandchildren standing around by my bedside
And now through the mist I can faint see them crying
But I will be comfortable here on the cushions of silk all around me
I think I must sleep in the cool deep
And it's midnight

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