JOANNA NEWSOM | Emily

Ys (2006).
Folk, New Weird America, Songwriting

LYRICS:

The meadowlark and the chim-choo-ree and the sparrow
Set to the sky in a flying spree, for the sport over the pharaoh
A little while later the Pharisees dragged comb through the meadow
Do you remember what they called up to you and me, in our window?

There is a rusty light on the pines tonight
Sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow
Down into the bones of the birches
And the spires of the churches
Jutting out from the shadows
The yoke, and the axe, and the old smokestacks and the bale and the barrow
And everything sloped like it was dragged from a rope
In the mouth of the south below

We've seen those mountains kneeling, felten and grey
We thought our very hearts would up and melt away
From that snow in the night time
Just going
And going
And the stirring of wind chimes
In the morning
In the morning
Helps me find my way back in
From the place where I have been

And, Emily - I saw you last night by the river
I dreamed you were skipping little stones across the surface of the water
Frowning at the angle where they were lost, and slipped under forever,
In a mud-cloud, mica-spangled, like the sky'd been breathing on a mirror

Anyhow - I sat by your side, by the water
You taught me the names of the stars overhead that I wrote down in my ledger
Though all I knew of the rote universe were those pleiades loosed in december
I promised you I'd set them to verse so I'd always remember

That the meteorite is a source of the light
And the meteor's just what we see
And the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee

And the meteorite's just what causes the light
And the meteor's how it's perceived
And the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee

You came and lay a cold compress upon the mess I'm in
Threw the window wide and cried; Amen! Amen! Amen!
The whole world - stopped - to hear you hollering
You looked down and saw now what was happening

The lines are fadin' in my kingdom
Though I have never known the way to border 'em in
So the muddy mouths of baboons and sows and the grouse and the horse and the hen
Grope at the gate of the looming lake that was once a tidy pen
And the mail is late and the great estates are not lit from within
The talk in town's becoming downright sickening

In due time we will see the far butte lit by a flare
I've seen your bravery, and I will follow you there
And row through the night time
Gone healthy
Gone healthy all of a sudden
In search of the midwife
Who could help me
Who could help me
Help me find my way back in
There are worries where I've been

Say, say, say in the lee of the bay; don't be bothered
Leave your troubles here where the tugboats shear the water from the water
Flanked by furrows, curling back, like a match held up to a newspaper
Emily, they'll follow your lead by the letter
And I make this claim, and I'm not ashamed to say I know you better
What they've seen is just a beam of your sun that banishes winter

Let us go! Though we know it's a hopeless endeavor
The ties that bind, they are barbed and spined and hold us close forever
Though there is nothing would help me come to grips with a sky that is gaping and yawning
There is a song I woke with on my lips as you sailed your great ship towards the morning

Come on home, the poppies are all grown knee-deep by now
Blossoms all have fallen, and the pollen ruins the plow
Peonies nod in the breeze and while they wetly bow, with
Hydrocephalitic listlessness ants mop up-a their brow

And everything with wings is restless, aimless, drunk and dour
The butterflies and birds collide at hot, ungodly hours
And my clay-colored motherlessness rangily reclines
Come on home, now! All my bones are dolorous with vines

Pa pointed out to me, for the hundredth time tonight
The way the ladle leads to a dirt-red bullet of light
Squint skyward and listen -
Loving him, we move within his borders:
Just asterisms in the stars' set order

We could stand for a century
Starin'
With our heads cocked
In the broad daylight at this thing
Joy
Landlocked
In bodies that don't keep
Dumbstruck with the sweetness of being
Till we don't be
Told; take this
Eat this

Told, the meteorite is the source of the light
And the meteor's just what we see
And the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee

And the meteorite's just what causes the light
And the meteor's how it's perceived
And the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee

Category:

Music

Tags:

• joanna
• newsom
• ys
• emily
• folk
• pop
• songwriting
• weird

[Freudianity]

I cannot listen to her voice. It's just bad. And I managed to listen to Friday all the way through, with only minor ear damage. I'm sorry, indie kids, this is not good music.

[MrMilieu]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

[AKRIDASGAMWEKSOGIINI]

the fact that your eardrums are as sensitive as a virgin pussy doesnt make this masterpiece "not good music" you goddamn faggot

[MrMilieu]

Beside the fact that I totally agree with you about the song, I don't stand the use of "faggot" and similar words as an insult, for the well deserved respect to homosexual people.

[fukyous]

From my understanding, when people say "faggot" in that sense, they aren't trying to hurt homosexual people. It's just like calling someone a "douche". No one is trying to insult people who are legitimate douchebags nor are they trying to insult vaginal cleansing devices.

My point is that they're just words. When I jokingly call my brother a faggot, for example, the idea that a homosexual person may be insulted by it doesn't come to mind.

[MrMilieu]

I understand what you're saying, but my approach to "words" is that they are not just that, they mean something, and sometimes the meaning perceived is different for people hearing them. I mean, it's unfair that terms like that have become "regular" in everyday language. Maybe my attitude is due to the fact that I grew and I live in a country where homofobes are implicitly allowed to do what they want. Beloved Italy....

[rianimator]

One of the finest pieces of the English language I've ever experienced.

[Allielikesneon]

Please all, do not speak in such smutty words on a Joanna Newsom clip. Words are hurtful, but there are many. Some are fascinating, and at your disposal... please use creative vocabulary such as hers!

[AKRIDASGAMWEKSOGIINI]

well i didnt really get mad, i thought it was funny. the beauty of youtube!

[JudasDaedalus]

Oh no! Someone on the internet has a different opinion than I do! I should get real mad, that'll fix things for sure.

[ChalktheChase]

It should come to mind, because down to the very core, calling someone a faggot is telling everyone around: gay is negative, and I am belittling this person by associating them with it.

Words are important, you should think about them.

[JustifiedIgnorance]

This isn't about "faggots" or pointless banter. This is about a harp, a voice, and a beautiful story.

[Murakoom]

What a terrible voice. But what a great ass

[Freudianity]

...actually I quite like it now.

[Freudianity]

Gonna be honest, I listened to this just now and it's not all that bad.

Now will I stop getting emails call me a faggot? All signs point to no.

[u780]

I agree with freudianity, her little smoker raspy frog croaks hurt my ears and sound like shit.