| Joanna Newsom – Goose Eggs Lyrics | 6 years ago |
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Correct lyrics... What we built, at the kiln that won’t be stilled, did not set well: The old veil of desire, like the vessels that we fired, fell thin as eggshells. And every season, somebody burns, downtown, taking turns— taking a bus, to take a train and just plain vamoose. Now the wind blows coals over the hills. Honey, I’ve been paying my bills, but honey it’s been a long time since I’ve come to any use. And it hurt me bad, when I heard the news that you’d got that call, and could not refuse. (A goose, alone, I suppose, can know the loneliness of geese, who never find their peace, whether north, or south, or west, or east; west or east; and I could never find my way to being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me, till the needing had ceased.) Recently, a bottle of rye, and a friend, and me, on our five loose legs, had a ramble, and spoke of the scrambling of broken hopes, and goose eggs, and a stranger, long ago. (Not you, honey! You, I know.) We just spoke of broken hopes and old strangers. Now the wind blows coals over the sea. Tell you what, honey: you and me better run and see if we can't contain them, first. But you had somewhere that you had to go, and you caught that flight out of Covalo. Now, overhead, you’re gunning in those Vs, where you had better find your peace, whether north, or south, or west, or east. West, or east. And I had better find my way to being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me, at last (at least). What’s redacted will repeat, and you cannot learn that you burn when you touch the heat, so we touch the heat, and we cut facsimiles of love and death (just separate holes in sheets where you cannot breathe, and you cannot see). And I cannot now, for the life of me, believe our talk— our flock had cause to leave, but do we? do we? |
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| Joanna Newsom – Goose Eggs Lyrics | 6 years ago |
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Correct lyrics... What we built, at the kiln that won’t be stilled, did not set well: The old veil of desire, like the vessels that we fired, fell thin as eggshells. And every season, somebody burns, downtown, taking turns— taking a bus, to take a train and just plain vamoose. Now the wind blows coals over the hills. Honey, I’ve been paying my bills, but honey it’s been a long time since I’ve come to any use. And it hurt me bad, when I heard the news that you’d got that call, and could not refuse. (A goose, alone, I suppose, can know the loneliness of geese, who never find their peace, whether north, or south, or west, or east; west or east; and I could never find my way to being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me, till the needing had ceased.) Recently, a bottle of rye, and a friend, and me, on our five loose legs, had a ramble, and spoke of the scrambling of broken hopes, and goose eggs, and a stranger, long ago. (Not you, honey! You, I know.) We just spoke of broken hopes and old strangers. Now the wind blows coals over the sea. Tell you what, honey: you and me better run and see if we can't contain them, first. But you had somewhere that you had to go, and you caught that flight out of Covalo. Now, overhead, you’re gunning in those Vs, where you had better find your peace, whether north, or south, or west, or east. West, or east. And I had better find my way to being the kind of friend you seemed to need in me, at last (at least). What’s redacted will repeat, and you cannot learn that you burn when you touch the heat, so we touch the heat, and we cut facsimiles of love and death (just separate holes in sheets where you cannot breathe, and you cannot see). And I cannot now, for the life of me, believe our talk— our flock had cause to leave, but do we? do we? |
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| Joanna Newsom – Baby Birch Lyrics | 6 years ago |
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This is the second song I ever heard of Joanna Newsom and probably my favorite. As a woman who has given birth to a stillborn baby, I think I have a unique appreciation and perspective of this song. I do not believe that this song is about an abortion but about the death of a baby either before, during or shortly after birth. “This is the song for Baby Birch. I will never know you. And at the back of what we've done, there is that knowledge of you. Well I wish we could take every path. I could spend a hundred years adoring you. Yes, I wish we could take every path, because you know I hated to close the door on you.” -The first two verses are the narrator addressing her baby that died. She is mourning for the life that they will never have together and wishing that they could have spent their whole lives loving each other (I could spend my whole life adoring you/ I wish we could take every path/ I hated to close the door on you). This baby was very wanted and she hated to give up on all the hopes and dreams that she had for her baby. “Do you remember staring, up at the stars, so far away in their bulletproof cars? We heard the rushing, slow intake of the dark, dark water, and the engine breaks, and I said, How about them engine breaks? And, if I should die before I wake, will you keep an eye on Baby Birch? Because I'd hate to see her make the same mistakes.” -In the next two verses, the narrator is addressing her lover/ child’s father. She is reminiscing how naive and carefree they used to be before the loss of their baby. They used to stare at the stars and talk about their future and their dreams believing that they were invincible (bulletproof cars). The narrator’s water breaks and she goes into labor. She is worrying about the delivery and fears that SHE might die. If she does, she wants her lover to take care of and protect Baby Birch. “When it was dark, I called and you came. When it was dark, I saw shapes. When I see stars, I feel, in your hand, and I see stars, and I reel, again.” -She’s still talking to her lover but now it’s after the loss of their baby. She’s thanking him for supporting her when she was grieving (when it was dark). She has a flashback when she see stars again to the night when she went into labor and her baby died, which causes her to “reel again.” “Well mercy me. I'll be goddamned. It's been a long, long time since I last saw you. And I have never known the plan. It's been a long, long time. How are you? Your eyes are green. Your hair is gold. Your hair is black. Your eyes are blue. I closed the ranks, and I doubled back — but, you know, I hated to close the doggone door on you.” -Now the narrator is addressing the baby again. Seeing the stars made her flashback to think about and miss her lost baby. It’s been a long time since the baby died but she still misses her. The narrator’s grief can be triggered by many innocent things that cause her grief to come to the surface. She wonders what her child would look like and once again states how much she hated having to say goodbye to her baby. “We take a walk along the dirty lake. Hear the goose, cussing at me over her eggs. You poor little cousin. I don't want your dregs (A little baby fussing over my legs).” -The narrator is once again talking to her lover. They go for a walk around the lake and see a mother goose with her babies. She addresses the goose as “cousin” because she feels like she can relate to her as a mother. But, just as quickly, the narrator changes her tune and doubts her ability as a mother saying that she doesn’t want “a little baby fussing over my legs.” In reality, that is exactly what she wants except she wants her own baby, not these baby geese. Seeing the mother goose and her babies once again triggers the narrator’s grief and causes her to flashback to the trauma of the birth and the death of her baby. “There is a blacksmith, and there is a shepherd, and there is a butcher-boy, and there is a barber, who's cutting and cutting away at my only joy. I saw a rabbit, as slick as a knife, and as pale as a candlestick, and I had thought it'd be harder to do, but I caught her, and skinned her quick: held her there, kicking and mewling, upended, unspooling, unsung and blue; told her "wherever you go, little runaway bunny, I will find you." And then she ran, as they're liable to do.” -This section describes the birth. The blacksmith, shepherd, etc. represent the doctors and nurses who were present in the delivery room. But, despite all these people present, the narrator is the one who has to do the hard work and skin the rabbit i.e. give birth. The baby is obviously either dead or dying so she holds the baby and says goodbye. She assures the baby that she will always love her and remember her (wherever you go little bunny I will find you). “Be at peace baby, and be gone. Be at peace baby, and be gone.” -The present tense, addressing the baby. The narrator hopes that her baby is resting in peace but also wants her to leave her be because the grief is overwhelming. The only way that the narrator can go on living her life is to try to distance herself from her intense grief. The theory that the baby was stillborn or died during or shortly after the birth is backed up just a few songs later in Jackrabbits when she says, “I shaped up overnight, you know, the day after she died.” |
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