Allelu, allelu
I have died happy and lived
To tell the tale to you
I have slept for forty years
And woke to find me gone
I woke safe and warm in your arms
In your arms
Your arms, in your arms
Not informed of the natural law
Squatting, lordly, on a stool, in a stall
We spun gold clear out of straw
And, when our bales of bullion were stored
You burned me like a barn
I burned safe and warm in your arms
In your arms
Your arms
I'm afraid of the Big Return
There's a certain conversation lost
And that loss incurred
With nobody remaining
To register who had passed this way in the night
In the middle of the night
Negating their grace and their sight
Till only I remember, or mark
How we had our talk
We took our ride
So that there was no-one home
And the lights of Rome
Flickered and died
And, what's more, I believe that you knew it, too
I think you saw their flares
And kept me safely unawares
In your arms
Your arms, in your arms
The grass was tall
And strung with burrs
I essayed that high sashay which in my mind, was my way
You hung behind, in yours
Anyhow, she did not neigh, I do not know
What drew our eyes to hers
That little black mare did not stir
Till I lay down in your arms
Poor old dirty little dog-size horse
Swaying and wheezing
As a matter of course
Swaying and wheezing
As a matter of pride
That poor old nag, not four palms wide
Had waited a long time
Coated in salt
Buckled like a ship
Run foul of the fence
And in the middle of the night
She'd sprung up, no provenance
Bearing the whites of her eyes
And you, with your
Arrangement with Fate
Nodded sadly at her lame assault
On that steady old gate
Her faultlessly etiolated fishbelly-face
The muzzle of a ghost
And, pretty Johnny Appleseed
Via satellite feed
Tell us, who was it
That you then loved the most?
Pretty Johnny Appleseed
Leave a trail that leads
Straight back down to the farm
Lay me down safe and warm
In your arms
In your arms
I have died happy and lived
To tell the tale to you
I have slept for forty years
And woke to find me gone
I woke safe and warm in your arms
In your arms
Your arms, in your arms
Not informed of the natural law
Squatting, lordly, on a stool, in a stall
We spun gold clear out of straw
And, when our bales of bullion were stored
You burned me like a barn
I burned safe and warm in your arms
In your arms
Your arms
I'm afraid of the Big Return
There's a certain conversation lost
And that loss incurred
With nobody remaining
To register who had passed this way in the night
In the middle of the night
Negating their grace and their sight
Till only I remember, or mark
How we had our talk
We took our ride
So that there was no-one home
And the lights of Rome
Flickered and died
And, what's more, I believe that you knew it, too
I think you saw their flares
And kept me safely unawares
In your arms
Your arms, in your arms
The grass was tall
And strung with burrs
I essayed that high sashay which in my mind, was my way
You hung behind, in yours
Anyhow, she did not neigh, I do not know
What drew our eyes to hers
That little black mare did not stir
Till I lay down in your arms
Poor old dirty little dog-size horse
Swaying and wheezing
As a matter of course
Swaying and wheezing
As a matter of pride
That poor old nag, not four palms wide
Had waited a long time
Coated in salt
Buckled like a ship
Run foul of the fence
And in the middle of the night
She'd sprung up, no provenance
Bearing the whites of her eyes
And you, with your
Arrangement with Fate
Nodded sadly at her lame assault
On that steady old gate
Her faultlessly etiolated fishbelly-face
The muzzle of a ghost
And, pretty Johnny Appleseed
Via satellite feed
Tell us, who was it
That you then loved the most?
Pretty Johnny Appleseed
Leave a trail that leads
Straight back down to the farm
Lay me down safe and warm
In your arms
In your arms
Lyrics submitted by animalcollector
No Provenance Lyrics as written by Joanna Newsom
Lyrics © ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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I love your interpretation of this song!
I agree with you that it's about being in a locked-up relationship. The title itself seems to be referring to the fact that the narrator's significant other is keeping her from returning to her family, from even thinking about her other relationships. Being so immersed in this strange love, she has no provenance. This song seems to be yet another turning point for the narrator. She's beginning to see that maybe her family and friends were right about this dude, and that he just kept her from seeing "their flares". It's pretty common, though disgusting, for women and men in abusive relationships to be cut off from their family and friends. Being afraid of the Big Return might be that she doesn't want to go back to her hometown for fear of being rejected, since she had basically forgotten about everyone in her past (due to her s.o.'s warm arms that are really just burning). But she does want to go back at this point.
I love the spinning straw into gold. I wonder if it is meant to remind us of that one tune: "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other is gold." Seems like this man isn't really gold at all, but he's trying to make her feel like he is more important than everything in her life up to this point, even her very origin. But the narrator's not that dumb... gold doesn't burn like this scarecrow.
It reminds me of Easy too. The differences are there though since she's at a different point in her relationship. In No Provenance, the narrator seems to at least acknowledge that she needs to break free. Her "dirty little dog sized horse" isn't really that at all, but her s.o. would have her believe that this part of her is worthless. I'm happy to see that by this song she might escape the flaming barn, since she finally notices the flames' existence.
But, like Eveiamnot, to me there are some parts of this song that don't fit entirely into that lone interpretation. I don't know... I have read a couple of comments on this site that talk about abortions, miscarriages, and the like. I don't know if that is - really - apparent, but it seems to be in this song and album. It reminds me of Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants." (I've heard Newsom likes him a lot as well.) A lot of the songs on HOOM seem to be about motherly longing. Not sure who the narrator is meant to be, but I feel so bad for her while listening to this album. Of course, that is a wild guess, but it makes sense to me with the (maybe) newborn horse, and tons of references throughout the album.
Women can be so silly and stupid when it comes to men, but these songs are so full of honesty and vulnerability that it might help others see when they're in a f***-up of a relationship too. Joanna Newsom is like an otherworldly, "via satellite feed", guidance counselor. Too bad most people can't get past the "squeaky voice" (but I love it).