Joanna Newsom - What We Have Known lyrics
[Joanna Newsom - What We Have Known lyrics]
The tadpole buoyant as basalt
The seahorse horsing in assault
The owlet in his greenery
The narwhal in his cup of sea
They all believe they all believe
But collusion bleeds through back alleys
From parapets that end on feet
When one is weak they discreetly meet
They throw the bones into the street
And they progress and we retreat
And all the books our fathers wrote
Are in the middle of the road
Little by little we implode
History brittle, brown and broke
We can't remember what was spoke
So we stare in wonder at the smoke
What it begets is born alone
We know not now what we have known!
Ladies, breathe deep against your whalebones
For your children come home made of stone
The terror seething sees a way
Or like the wheezing of the bay
In miniature agonies
They travel westward on the breeze
Bring us all to our knees
The dappled horse, the sorrel mare
With eyes that do not see but stare
Beneath boots as black as malachite
He drives a nag into the night
Into the night
And all the baby boys we've borne
With eyes averted from the storm
Sent off to die in perfect form
We know not now what we have known!
Satellite photos, rhetoric
See how the euphemisms stick
And when they come back, broke and burned
Those who return have not returned!
The seahorse horsing in assault
The owlet in his greenery
The narwhal in his cup of sea
They all believe they all believe
But collusion bleeds through back alleys
From parapets that end on feet
When one is weak they discreetly meet
They throw the bones into the street
And they progress and we retreat
And all the books our fathers wrote
Are in the middle of the road
Little by little we implode
History brittle, brown and broke
We can't remember what was spoke
So we stare in wonder at the smoke
What it begets is born alone
We know not now what we have known!
Ladies, breathe deep against your whalebones
For your children come home made of stone
The terror seething sees a way
Or like the wheezing of the bay
In miniature agonies
They travel westward on the breeze
Bring us all to our knees
The dappled horse, the sorrel mare
With eyes that do not see but stare
Beneath boots as black as malachite
He drives a nag into the night
Into the night
And all the baby boys we've borne
With eyes averted from the storm
Sent off to die in perfect form
We know not now what we have known!
Satellite photos, rhetoric
See how the euphemisms stick
And when they come back, broke and burned
Those who return have not returned!