Waltz of the 101st Lightborne

Album: Divers (2015)
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  • I believed they had got what they came for
    I believed our peril was done
    On the eve of the last of the great wars
    After three we had narrowly won
    (But the fourth
    It was carelessly done)

    I saw his ship in its whistling ascension
    As they launched from the capitol seat
    Swear I saw our mistake
    When the clouds draped like a flag
    Across the backs of the fleet
    Of the hundred-first lightborne elite

    As the day is long
    So the well runs dry
    And we came to see time is taller
    Than space is wide
    And we bade goodbye
    To the great divide
    Found unlimited simulacreage to colonize

    But there was a time we were lashed to the prow
    Of a ship you may board, but not steer
    Before you and I ceased to mean now
    And began to mean only right here
    (to mean inches and miles, but not years)
    Before space has a taste of its limits
    And a new sort of coordinate awoke
    Making time just another poor tenant
    Bearing weight, taking fire, trading smokes
    In the war between us and our ghosts

    (But I saw the Bering Strait and the Golden Gate
    In silent suspension of their golden age
    And you can barely tell, if I guard it well
    Where I have been, and seen
    Pristine, unfelled)

    I had a dream that I walked in the garden
    Of Chabot, and those telescope ruins
    It was there that I called to my true love
    Who was pale as millennial moons
    Honey, where did you come by that wound?

    When I woke, he was gone
    And the war had begun
    In eternal return and repeat
    Calling, where in the hell are the rest of your fellow
    One hundred-one lightborne elite?
    Stormed in the new highland light infantry

    Make it stop, my love
    We were wrong to try
    Never saw what we could unravel
    In traveling light
    Nor how the trip debrides
    Like a stack of slides
    All we saw was that time is taller than space is wide

    That's why we are bound to a round desert island
    'neath the sky where our sailors have gone
    Have they drowned, in those windy highlands?
    Highlands away, my John Writer/s: Joanna Newsom
    Publisher: ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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