Sunday, January 21, 2007

Harpies Bizarre

He selects the plainest face form a spiteful row of girls
Elegant insulted women, a flaw of cultured pearls.
He drops a name or two, she fails to catch
At last he's met his match
Unspoiled and unaffected, he wants her so much
She puts up half-hearted resistance, like she was taught to do
She's heard some of those small town playboys but this is
something new
His promise seems dangerous, she'd like to believe
He says "You'd better leave"
"You've only got yourself to blame, shame, or deceive"

The waiting lines are long
They never get too far
Everyone wearing that medal with pride
Harpies Bizarre

I looked on but hesitated
I failed to interrupt
You're so hard to tell the truth to
So easy to corrupt
I'll memorize your face
Your tragic smile
The hurt look in your eyes
As you betrayed yourself to the part of him that dies

The waiting lines are long
They never get too far
They're shining up their shoes to kick a falling star
You think you should be somebody
But you don't know who you are
Everyone wearing that medal with pride
Harpies Bizarre

-Elvis Costello

1 Comments:

Blogger Sisyphus said...

The lamp must be replenish’d, but even then
It will not burn so long as I must watch.
My slumbers – if I slumber—are not sleep,
But a continuance of enduring thought,
Which then I can resist not: in my heart
There is a vigil, and these eyes but close
To look within; and yet I live, and bear
The aspect and the form of breathing men

Manfred

Lord Byron

‘Happy Birthday George’
January 22, 1788

4:39 PM  

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