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Joe Henry




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Joe Henry Album


Scar (2001)
2001
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Nico Lost One Small Buddha
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. . .


Sometimes I think I've almost fooled myself
Sometimes I think I've almost fooled myself--
Spreading out my wings
Above us like a tree,
Laughing now, out loud
Almost like I was free

I look at you as the thing I wanted most
You look at me and it's like you've seen a ghost—
I wear the face
Of all this has cost:
Everything you tried to keep away from me,
Everything I took from you and lost

Lights shine above me, they're like your eyes above the street
Lights shine below me, they're like stars beneath my feet—
I stood on your shoulders
And I walked on my hands,
You watched me while I tried to fall
You can't bear to watch me land

Take me away, carry me like a dove
Take me away, carry me like a dove—
Love me like you're lying
Let me feel you near,
Remember me for trying
And excuse me while I disappear

. . .


Don't tell me to stop
Tell the rain not to drop,
Tell the wind not to blow
Cause you said so;
Tell me love isn't true
It's just something we do,
Tell me everything I'm not
But don't tell me to stop

Tell the sun not to shine
Not to get up this time,
Let it fall by the way,
Leave me where I lay;
Tell the leaves not to turn
But don't tell me I'll learn,
Take the black off a crow
But don't tell me to go

Tell the bed not to lay
Like the mouth of a grave,
Not to stare up at me
Like a calf on its knees;
Tell me love isn't true
It's just something we do,
Tell me everything I'm not
But don't tell me to stop

. . .


How beautiful you've made yourself
How cruel you've become,
How so much like another
That it's no surprise
That I don't recognize you now so
Beautiful and cruel

You're the meanest flower…

You raise me off the ground
To see how far there is to fall,
As if I don't remember
How we passed the time,
As if I don't remember how
Your face fell into mine

Oh, you're the meanest flower…

Notice how I vanish
And your world remains,
You show your head above it
For spite, nothing more,
Like you thought just living
Was somehow its own reward

You're the meanest flower…

. . .


I've been having wicked thoughts
Terribly wicked, selfish and cruel,
Imagining I stood high on a ledge
And fell just out of the reach of you;
Just then, we are together alone
As I fall, you look up—
Looking for all the world like for once
It was you, not me, who had been struck.

Should I love you more than I do?
Or pray to love you less?
Or learn to live with the little you give
Believing it all for the best?
Will I ever see your heart
Open wide and your eyes shut—
Looking for all the world like for once
It was you, not me, who had been struck.

The trees are angry, toss in the wind
Devour small planes going by,
Dropping wreckage, bags and gloves
Down around us where we lie;
I hear your uneasy breath
As you stir but don't wake up,
Looking for all the world like for once
It was you, not me, who had been struck

. . .


Here's that rainy day
That you said was bound to come,
Funny—now you took my hat
I can still feel it like it's on;
O baby I wonder how
You ever learned to play so rough,
You left me with everything
Knowing it would never be enough

Now I remember—you told me so,
You're so rough and tumble, and now I know

I had a dream of you
And I'll tell you what I can
Your face was a brilliant mask
--it came off in my hand;
O baby I wonder how
You ever learned to play so rough
You left me with everything
Knowing it would never be enough

Now I remember—

I take my coffee now
At the window by the stove,
The afternoon is dark
As the shadows grow;
O baby I wonder how
You ever got so tough,
To leave me with everything
Knowing it would never be enough

Now I remember--

. . .


Holy cow, look what you've done
You've got me now so I can't speak;
I wonder how you turned out the stars
I hear your laugh
Like falling railway cars,
Far and away, peaking through the bars
Safe behind your own lock and key
--safe for now from me

God only knows how I love you
But God and His ghost
And His roadhouse crew
Ran me out of town on a silver rail
Free at last and begging Him for jail

. . .

Nico Lost One Small Buddha

[No lyrics]

. . .


Just think what a day's rain can do
A bridge once between us is lost,
I set it to sway
And now here I stay
Till it's cold enough to cross

I stand on the bank watching on
You wade in the flood and I'm lost,
You're calling my name


But I wait just the same
Till it's cold enough to cross

Just think what I know time will tell
What keeps me from you so lost,
It's not the water you wade
But that I wait afraid
Till it's cold enough to cross

. . .


Dear Marion, as I write this down—
Dear Marion, I just make the bed then I need
To go lie down.
But Baby knows that I love to cry
Over every little thing,
I just sweep the yard and wait
For the whole world to change
…any minute now

From across the room she mouths words
So I can see—
Says, "who's Edgar Bergen?"
And I say, "don't start with me.."
But Baby knows that I love to cry
Over every little thing,
I just sit up on her knee and wait
For the whole world to change
…any minute now

That bird of yours, he just bit me
And all I said was "hello,"
All I did was, I answered him
And sort of shook his foot, you know.
But Baby knows that I love to cry
Over every little thing,
God knows, but even he must me waiting
For the whole world to change
…any minute now
any minute now
any minute now

. . .


What does this look like to you?
A mark so fine, you barely see.
You have one just like it, too—
A twisting vine,
A mark so fine;
Cause I love you with all I am
And you love me because you are
As fearless as a twisting vine,
A mark so fine
But still a scar

Fear plays dumb then eats the soul
Like a vagabond with a fishing pole
He whistles but he cannot sing,
It's an awful tune
But very soon
I find that I am whistling, too
And your window is like a star
That I sit beneath like a vagabond
Who wears his fear
Just like a scar

The blade of our outrageous fortune
Like a parade, it cuts a path,
Light shows on our foolish way
And darkness on
our aftermath;
If I love you to save myself
And you love me because we are
So fool to think that our parade
Could leave a path
But not a scar

And I love you with all I am
And you love me with what you are—
As pretty as a twisting vine,
A mark so fine
But still a scar

. . .


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