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The Charity of Night Lyrics
Big city Europa - July of 64 - It's 5AM
Weather blowing bitter off the Baltic.
Car slows beside him as he walks
Hubcaps slow revolution
Jaundiced-looking pockmarked face, round in window
Short greasy black beard
Couple of language stabs, settle on English
"It's cold - I give you ride.
Don't you want to kiss me?"
This goes on halfway across the cobbled bridge
Driver pulls ahead - gets out by the construction fence
Ambles towards him rubbing the bulge in his pants
In his jacket is the revolver
The hand is already in the pocket for warmth and fingers slide easily around wood grips
Slow as that predator's footsteps the gun comes out
Arm straightens, sight blade bisecting yellow forehead
Wind - blue metal streetlight - Faint twilight shining on the corners of stones.
Wave on wave of life
Like the great wide ocean's roll
Haunting hands of memory
Pluck silver strands of soul
The damage and the dying done
The clarity of light
Gentle bows and glasses raised
To the charity of night
Slow revolution - 1985 - crosswise in a hammock in the hot volcanic hills
Its 3AM the night after the air raid
From the ridge she watched A37s, like ugly gulls,
Make a dozen swooping passes over some luckless town
Maybe ten kliks beyond the border
In the distance the Pacific glimmered silver
Now lascivious laughter floats on the darkness from the police post next door-
Male voices - and a woman's -
Little clouds of desire painted around the edges with rum
In the muddy street a pig suddenly screams
Wave on wave of life
Like the great wide ocean's roll
Haunting hands of memory
Pluck silver strands of soul
The damage and the dying done
The clarity of light
Gentle bows and glasses raised
To the charity of night
Pacific glimmers silver
Moon full over shadow mansion
West coast - Can't say when
There is incense and the heat-driven scent of flowers
Tongue slides over soft skin
Love pounds in veins brains buzzing balls of lust
Fingers twine in wet hair
Limbs twist and roll
On the dresser wax drips in slow motion down the long side of
A black candle
Ecstatic halo of flame and pheromone-
Wave on wave of life
Like the great wide ocean's roll
Haunting hands of memory
Pluck silver strands of soul
The damage and the dying done
The clarity of light
Gentle bows and glasses raised
To the charity of night
Weather blowing bitter off the Baltic.
Hubcaps slow revolution
Jaundiced-looking pockmarked face, round in window
Short greasy black beard
"It's cold - I give you ride.
Don't you want to kiss me?"
Driver pulls ahead - gets out by the construction fence
Ambles towards him rubbing the bulge in his pants
The hand is already in the pocket for warmth and fingers slide easily around wood grips
Arm straightens, sight blade bisecting yellow forehead
Wind - blue metal streetlight - Faint twilight shining on the corners of stones.
Like the great wide ocean's roll
Haunting hands of memory
Pluck silver strands of soul
The damage and the dying done
The clarity of light
Gentle bows and glasses raised
To the charity of night
Its 3AM the night after the air raid
From the ridge she watched A37s, like ugly gulls,
Make a dozen swooping passes over some luckless town
Maybe ten kliks beyond the border
In the distance the Pacific glimmered silver
Male voices - and a woman's -
Little clouds of desire painted around the edges with rum
In the muddy street a pig suddenly screams
Like the great wide ocean's roll
Haunting hands of memory
Pluck silver strands of soul
The damage and the dying done
The clarity of light
Gentle bows and glasses raised
To the charity of night
Moon full over shadow mansion
West coast - Can't say when
There is incense and the heat-driven scent of flowers
Love pounds in veins brains buzzing balls of lust
Fingers twine in wet hair
Limbs twist and roll
A black candle
Ecstatic halo of flame and pheromone-
Like the great wide ocean's roll
Haunting hands of memory
Pluck silver strands of soul
The damage and the dying done
The clarity of light
Gentle bows and glasses raised
To the charity of night
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This is far from canonical, but I interpret "Night" in "The Charity of Night" to symbolize death. In the first stanza, I understand the protagonist to be killed by the predator, the gun is in the pocket of the man with the greasy beard. The last sensations of the dying man being the wind blowing, noticing the light pole, seeing glimmers of twilight on the pavement. Then Death gives its gift--the Clarity of Light, preserving silver strands of soul, memories of past life heaving like waves.
The same theme works in the second stanza, where death comes in the form of gunships attacking some village in Central America. The killing is ugly. But Death brings kindness, generosity. The material world pays no attention to this mystical gift, evidenced by the lecherous drunken noises nearby, and the squeal of a pig, emphasizing this animalism.
In the third stanza, there is no overt death so I am not sure the metaphor holds. Just the sensuality of well-to-do lust and passion. But it is possible that the candle dripping, by being black, is intended to imply that just beyond this moment of time, death, with its charity, its clarity, awaits these lovers as well.
My interpretation might be stretching the text a bit, but the juxtaposition of the ugliness of the killing in this song seems to bring into focus the good that God holds out for us in death- the clarity of light that follows the damage and the dying, the silver strands of soul being preserved, as glasses are raised in a toast to the charity of Night (death)