1. |
Old Dream
02:39
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I walked on the dark side of everyone’s everything more
And wondrous fairies they walk through the crack in the door
Walls of old pavement shine quick like a glimpse of the moon
Friends that I’ve had, like towers they shoot to the moon
My fate has been sealed and I watch from my bedroom door
The city winks dim in the map on the floor of my mind
Drifting bodies on streets made from blood and from bone
They feel the wind as it washes from sky to alone
If seas of memory crashed in the waves of my head
If floods of foresight whipped the hat from your hair
I’d split into pieces, two big smiles, one dark eye
Worlds of sadness and inklings of happiness, I cry
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2. |
Summer's End
02:29
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Deep under a hard sleep dream
I woke up in a daze
Thoughts extrude from yester-night
Unspoken in a haze
Footsteps on that cold black street
Were dark and like of wood
I tried to kiss her in the night
But it wasn’t meant to be
Faded on those wiry thoughts
Of melancholic swoon
My humbleness persuaded none
My withered lack of hue
Something in the hair of her
Invited tunes of my affection
I went to hold her in the night
But It wasn’t meant to be
Pain and sadness
Overcome by virtuosity
Creeping swords of skin and nail
Slide easily underneath
Frazzled in these words and lies
I drop them to my feet
I went to kiss her in the night
But It wasn’t meant to be
Forlorn ponderings from my past
They dim the glow of day
Flouncing wisdom understood
By possibility
I have only seven loves
And now just memories
I wouldn’t rush and I did not wait
It wasn’t meant to be
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Paul Bergmann New Haven, Connecticut
In his relentless oeuvre-building, Paul has amassed an especially articulate kind of existentialism: what it means to persist, and to create, in a world which dies in the near distance. In No Masters in Paradise, the form of the songwriter’s ballad, in the hands of an expert, is turned inward for comfort, resisting the base lure of worldly approval. ... more
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