{"id":58,"date":"2012-02-22T13:14:09","date_gmt":"2012-02-22T13:14:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/?page_id=58"},"modified":"2020-02-10T20:15:09","modified_gmt":"2020-02-10T20:15:09","slug":"music","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/?page_id=58","title":{"rendered":"lyrics"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Michele<\/a><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Harvest Time (XXII or 0- fool)<\/strong><\/p>\n

my diamond ring went to a pawnshop
\nbought a green dress that melts to my skin
\na new tattoo of a dove and butterfly
\nflying so high, gonna leave my skin behind
\nit is harvest time<\/p>\n

I spread my life on the front lawn
\nwhat didn’t sell, I gave away
\nthe vultures came with their big trucks
\nand took what I could never love
\nit is harvest time<\/p>\n

he ate my heart when I was torn apart
\nand then gave me life again
\nat the time all I felt was the gnawing pain
\nnow all I can feel is the freedom
\nsome may call me a fool for the way that I’ve lived
\nbut their words fall like the leaves
\nbecause it is harvest time<\/p>\n

don’t love a thing that won’t love back
\nI lost it all; now I can breathe again
\nI’m gonna drive to a field of sunflowers
\nand lay down like a tiger on its back
\nit is harvest time<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

For The Mama (III- empress)<\/strong><\/p>\n

cleaning bottles, changing booty,
\nnursing baby, feeling loopy
\nthe lists spiral around
\nlet’s drink another round for the mama<\/p>\n

sleepless nights, babies cry
\nbellies big, shrink with time
\nrelationships fall down
\nlet’s drink another round for the mama<\/p>\n

flap, flap
\nthe angels are here
\ncooling tempers with the air of their wings
\nsurely heaven will forever be open
\nto all the mamas who were not broken
\nby the heartache of love<\/p>\n

no shower for mama grime
\nthe clock ticks speeding time
\nthe lists spiral around
\nlet’s drink another round for the mama<\/p>\n

baby’s tied to mama’s hip
\nand she just wants some wine to sip
\nand laughter the only sound
\nlet’s drink another round for the mama
\nflap, flap
\nthe angels are here
\ncooling tempers with the air of their wings
\nsurely heaven will forever be open
\nto all the mamas who were not broken
\nby the heartache of love<\/p>\n

mama has a gentle touch
\nher mind’s gone soft, can’t remember much
\nbut her feet are on the ground
\nlet’s drink another round for the mama<\/p>\n

mama can be a kind queen
\nbut when her crown falls off you can hear her scream
\nno peace to be found
\nlet’s drink another round for the mama<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dogs Are On The Loose (IV- emperor)<\/strong><\/p>\n

they’ll take your house
\nthey’ll take your rights
\nto turn a profit, they’ll take your life
\nthey’ll take your prayers
\nthey’ll take your Christ
\nto turn a profit, they’ll make him white
\nthey’ll take your taxes
\nthey’ll take your jobs
\nto turn a profit, they will rob
\nthey’ll take your unions
\nthey’ll take your books
\nto turn a profit, they’ll be crooks
\nthe dogs are on the loose<\/p>\n

they’ll take your votes
\nthey’ll take your health
\nto turn a profit, increase their wealth
\nthey’ll take your hopes
\nthey’ll take your dreams
\nto oil the war machine
\nthey’ll take your laws
\nderegulate
\nto live in a corporate state
\na hunger
\nbeyond compare
\nan endless pit beyond repair
\nthe dogs are on the loose<\/p>\n

there’s little time before they hit the cold ground
\nmoney is no cushion when you are falling down
\nyou can’t take it with you when it’s time to go
\nthe last words will be, “you reap what you sow”
\nthe dogs are on the loose<\/p>\n

they’ll take your water
\nthey’ll take your oil
\nfor a profit, they’ll steal the soil
\nthrow you a bone
\nand insist
\nthat they’re giving you a gift
\nand what they want is more control
\nthe dogs are on the loose<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Handful Of Thorns (The Waltz, V- lovers)<\/strong><\/p>\n

join hands as one searching for union
\nas arrows fly down, the truth slips out
\nfeet shuffle round- left and right
\nwe dance the waltz- dark and light<\/p>\n

shadows move our hearts, break our words apart
\nwe start to blame, feel the burn of the flame
\nfeet shuffle round- left and right
\nwe dance the waltz- dark and light<\/p>\n

dark mirrors reflect the ways we disconnect
\nour love’s a slippery fiend in a burning stream
\nfeet shuffle round- left and right
\nwe dance the waltz- dark and light<\/p>\n

what you see in me
\nyou feel in yourself
\na saint, a sinner, a holy crown
\nI am a handful of thorns you string across your brow
\ntear them down<\/p>\n

melodies splinter into disharmony
\nbut we still dance this song yearning to be free
\nfeet shuffle round- left and right
\nwe dance the waltz- dark and light<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Bus (VII- chariot)<\/strong><\/p>\n

backseat devils whispering
\nweighted eyelids, drifting sleep
\nwaking up to a crooked road
\nhands on the wheel, driving gloves
\nfeathered wheels in the night
\nblack tar anger and a raven’s cry
\nempty seats rattle with ghosts
\nall the Memories I can’t leave alone
\ncrazy ain’t gonna drive this bus no more<\/p>\n

I’ve been hard and weathered by shame
\narmored with grudges, armored with blame
\nI gave all my power away
\nfoggy windows, blinding rain
\nturn the key, engine chokes
\ntailpipes rattle, clouds of smoke
\nmoving forward with a serpent’s hiss
\ntransformed by an angel’s fist
\ncrazy ain’t gonna drive this bus no more<\/p>\n

gonna leave this moon behind
\nthis cold, cold sliver of silvery quiet
\na sharp morning ray of light
\nescapes this long dark night
\ngonna lay down by your side
\ndeep breath, close my eyes
\nyour anger is just like mine
\na heavy cloud in the sky
\ncrazy ain’t gonna drive this bus no more<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sometimes (IX- hermit)<\/strong><\/p>\n

sometimes I feel like the hounds are chasing me
\nand I can’t quiet my mind
\nI gotta go far away
\nto a place all mine
\nsometimes I feel like no one else can see
\nall the ties that bind
\nI’ve got to break free
\nto search for my own light
\nI’ll come back
\nmuch brighter before
\na single flame will light my path
\nand will lead me home<\/p>\n

sometimes you look so disappointed
\nas I walk in the door
\nin those moments, there ain’t nothing I can do
\nto make you want me more
\nsometimes you’ve gotta go far away
\nand leave me behind
\nwe all have a need
\nto search for our own light
\nyou’ll come back
\nmuch brighter before
\na single flame to light your path
\nand to lead you home
\nthe kiss will be much sweeter now
\nthe bed will be so warm
\ntwo people come together
\nwho are strong on their own.<\/p>\n

sometimes I feel the darkness calling me
\nwhispering my name
\nI’ve gotta go and be alone
\nto be sane<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Change Will Come In Time (X- fortune)<\/strong><\/p>\n

my wine glass in empty
\nwe’re late getting home
\nbut I still want to be out in the night
\ncause when I hold the lightning in
\nI can still hear the thunder cry
\na change will come in time<\/p>\n

discovering you
\ncould take a lifetime
\nwith all the dark places we hide
\nI’m gonna nail the sun up in the sky
\na change will come in time<\/p>\n

circling round are Jupiter’s moons
\nmy fortune is to be here with you
\nthis moment’s a chance to see right through
\nwhat separates me from you<\/p>\n

my mind forgets
\nwhat my heart knows
\nthe milky way in the Terlingua night
\nthe city lights are left far behind
\na change will come in time
\ntruthful words
\ntears fall down
\nthere’s nothing the desert air won’t dry
\nlet’s hold each other until sunrise
\na change will come in time<\/p>\n

maybe it’s good, maybe it’s bad
\nthese expectations, burning sand
\nbones and dreams, we’re just spokes in the wheel
\ninside out, we are bending still<\/p>\n

you try and pack your bags
\nbut the all the zippers are worn
\nthere’s nothing left to do but cry
\nabout all the stories that tear you up inside
\nA change will come in time<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Between The Threads (XII- hanged man)<\/strong><\/p>\n

signed her timesheets, left a note
\n“I’m leaving work with a sore throat”
\nworking sixty hours a week
\nhome becomes an office seat
\ncar radios blare the fearful news
\nthis economy has got the blues
\nshe’s invisible- ruled by a clock
\nstrung upside down- tied to a rock<\/p>\n

chorus:
\nhold on, you’ve got to hold on
\nyou better find the space between the threads
\nhold on, you’ve got to hold on
\nxo you can make your way out of this spider’s web<\/p>\n

she got a degree in the mail
\nthought she’d drunk from the holy grail
\neveryone wants a place to go
\ndesperation will open that door
\nfluorescent lights, answering phones
\nher dreams are stripped to the bone
\nthere’s just got to be something more
\nthan being numb to the core<\/p>\n

chorus:<\/p>\n

for nine days she won’t leave her room
\nthe television hums out of tune
\nlike a snake whining underneath
\nthe old ammunition has worn out teeth
\nyou make plans; they are never enough
\nyou just keep on doing the same old stuff
\nyou have to be still and close your eyes
\nto find the strength between the lies<\/p>\n

chorus:<\/p>\n

been tangled in elastic time
\nwith mumbled prayers and heavy sighs
\nshe quit her job; she’s moving on
\n78 cries in a mockingbird’s song
\ndancing on the top of the trees
\nflying free high on the breeze
\na long time since she’s noticed a thing
\nbesides what’s on her computer screen<\/p>\n

chorus:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Norden Bombsight (XVI- tower)<\/strong><\/p>\n

my grandpa’s cousin was a famous man
\na bombadier in World War II
\nAnd on the Enola Gay
\nwhen Truman gave orders, he followed through
\nlooking through a Norden bomb sight
\nin just moments, 80,000 people died<\/p>\n

the men on the Superfortress
\nhad never seen an atomic bomb
\nand over Hiroshima
\nwhen they reached they target
\nthey did the job
\nlooking through a Norden bomb sight
\nin just moments, 80,000 people died<\/p>\n

how does the world look
\nflying in a B-29
\nthe earth a boiling liquid
\nthe sky a tremendous blinding light
\nwhat did he think when he realized
\nthat when he pushed the button over 80,000 people died<\/p>\n

my grandpa’s cousin lived to be 81
\nhe grew a rose garden and went bass fishing with his sons
\nwhen he was asked about his life
\nhe said he did a job that had to be done
\nwhen he closed his eyes late at night
\ndid he feel the ghosts of the 80,000 people who died<\/p>\n

I’ve heard a surrender was underway
\nWhen Truman decided to drop the bomb
\nhe wanted to show the rest of the world
\nthat America was mighty and strong
\nlooking through a Norden bomb sight
\nin just moments 80,000 people died
\nlooking through a Norden bomb sight
\nin just moments you could realize<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Shine Again (XVII- star)<\/strong><\/p>\n

before he left for another woman
\nI felt invincibly pretty
\nlike a superhero in a dress
\nhe left the kids and took a bottle of scotch
\ncalled once a week
\nwith a strained “I miss you” for the kids
\nwe came to some agreements
\nbooks, money, and music
\nthe kids got a key to his new place
\nI gave him a hard drive with all the pictures
\nbirthdays and holidays
\nmemories, now full of blame<\/p>\n

chorus:
\nlet it go- it is time
\nto feel the stars shining through the black night
\nI’ve still got music in my skin
\nI will shine again<\/p>\n

I’ve been sleep walking into windows
\nyou can tell by the scars on my face
\nthe kids wake up and find me
\nwith my head on the table
\nI fell asleep in the wrong place
\nthey are gone every other weekend
\nI do the laundry and try to rest
\nfind another dream
\nI used to laugh, used to sing
\nNow it’s just a struggle
\nto keep the couch clean<\/p>\n

chorus:<\/p>\n

when I read my daughter a goodnight story
\nwith fairies and demons
\nthat ends with vow and a ring
\nmy voice wavers
\nI want to show her the strength
\nin surviving a bullet’s sting
\na bottle of wine and some crying
\nusually leads to drunk dialing
\nlate at night when anger roams free
\nsomething’s got to break
\ngot to change
\ncause I feel the weight of my age<\/p>\n

chorus:<\/p>\n

the black night won’t swallow me whole
\nI’m growing wings on my soul<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dust Of The Moon (XVIII-moon)<\/strong><\/p>\n

the sun’s in the beetle’s pincers
\nmoving in the night
\nblood drops from the moon
\npomegranate blues
\nhibernate in the jackal’s belly
\nafraid to wake up
\nwings tear at the soil
\nready to soar
\ncover me in the dust of the moon
\ndon’t wait up for me
\nI’ll be home soon<\/p>\n

your shadows show you
\nall that you deny
\na classic abyss
\nin black and white
\nit takes all you’ve got
\nto keep your feet on the ground
\nto keep from wandering up
\nfrom the underground
\ncover me in the dust of the moon
\ndon’t wait up for me
\nI’ll be home soon<\/p>\n

the craters give footholds
\nso before sunrise
\nyou can stand up tall
\nto reflect the light
\nthe moon will strip
\nthe meat from your bones
\nwith a loving embrace
\nyou will be reborn
\ncover me in the dust of the moon
\npray for me that
\nI’ll be home soon<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    Harvest Time (XXII or 0- fool) my diamond ring went to a pawnshop bought a green dress that…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":2,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-58","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/58","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=58"}],"version-history":[{"count":25,"href":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/58\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":945,"href":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/58\/revisions\/945"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/michelesolberg.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=58"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}