---------------------------------------------------------------------------- EMILY - Joanna Newsom ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tuning: Standard The meadowlark and the chim-choo-ree and the sparrow Set to the sky in a flying spree, for the sport over the pharaoh Little while later the Pharisees dragged comb through the meadow Do you remember what they called up to you and me, in our window? there is a rusty light on the pines tonight sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow down into the bones of the birches and the spires of the churches jutting out from the shadows the oak, and the axe, and the old smokestacks and the bale and the barrow and everything sloped like it was dragged from a rope in the mouth of the south below we've seen those mountains kneeling, felten and grey we thought our very hearts would up and melt away from that snow in the nighttime just going and going and the stirring of wind chimes in the morning in the morning helps me find my way back in from the place where I have been (instrumental segway) and, Emily - I saw you last night by the river I dreamed you were skipping little stones across the surface of the water frowning at the angle where they were lost, and slipped under forever, in a mud-cloud, mica-spangled, like the sky'd been breathing on a mirror anyhow - I sat by your side, by the water you taught me the names of the stars overhead that I wrote down in my ledger though all I knew of the rote universe were those pleiades loosed in december I promised you I‘d set them to verse so I'd always remember that the meteorite is a source of the light and the meteor's just what we see and the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee and the meteorite's just what causes the light and the meteor's how it's perceived and the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee you came and lay a cold compress upon the mess I'm in threw the window wide and cried; Amen! Amen! Amen! the whole world - stopped - to hear you hollering you looked down and saw now what was happening the lines are fadin' in my kingdom though I have never known the way to border them in so the muddy mouths of baboons and sows and the grouse and the horse and the hen grope at the gate of the looming lake that was once a tidy pen and the mail is late and the great estates are not lit from within the talk in town's becoming downright sickening in due time we will see the far butte lit by a flare I've seen your bravery, and I will follow you there and row through the nighttime gone healthy gone healthy all of a sudden in search of the midwife who could help me who could help me help me find my way back in there are worries where I've been (instrumental segway) say, say, say in the lee of the bay; don't be bothered leave your troubles here where the tugboats shear the water from the water flanked by furrows, curling back, like a match held up to a newspaper Emily, they'll follow your lead by the letter and I make this claim, and I'm not ashamed to say I know you better what they've seen is just a beam of your sun that banishes winter let us go! though we know it's a hopeless endeavor the ties that bind, they are barbed and spined and hold us close forever though there is nothing would help me come to grips with a sky that is gaping and yawning there is a song I woke with on my lips as you sailed your great ship towards the morning come on home, the poppies are all grown knee-deep by now blossoms all have fallen, and the pollen ruins the plow peonies nod in the breeze and while they wetly bow, with hydrocephalitic listlessness ants mop up their brow and everything with wings is restless, aimless, drunk and dour the butterflies and birds collide at hot, ungodly hours and my clay-colored motherlessness rangily reclines - come on home, now! all my bones are dolorous with vines Pa pointed out to me, for the hundredth time tonight the way the ladle leads to a dirt-red bullet of light squint skyward and listen - loving him, we move within his borders: just asterisms in the stars' set order we could stand for a century, starin', with our heads cocked in the broad daylight at this thing. Joy, landlocked in bodies that don't keep, dumbstruck with the sweetness of be- ing till we don't be told; take this and eat this told; the meteorite is the source of the light and the meteor's just what we see and the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee and the meteorite's just what causes the light and the meteor's how it's perceived and the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee