Naming Things

(Carlo Moretti)

A song about struggle, growth and love.

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The saucer left the drive-in
And the plexiglass was shaken
By the grudge of gravity.

She was kneeling at the entrance
She was broken, she was melting
Like the snowflakes on her chin.

I was casually involved
With a pig-tailed, bat-faced waitress
But it was a one-way love.

So I told her: "Can I speak with you?
Can I tell you all the things I'd do
To withstand the tidal swarming of the teeth?"

She scorned me: "You're no soldier.
You've been lucky, you've been given
all the weapons to succeed."

"I myself am but a bandit,
And I know there is no place for me
In the hierarchies of the stars."

Pink, blue, green: the colours of the feathers of the Sphinx
The riddle has been solved, but a mystery is still creeping
There's so many questions left to be unspoken.
But then again, I got my couch, a bed to sleep and my dinner's warm
So I don't really care much what the layman knows.

The dressed girl keeps quiet
With her cleavage forsaken
underneath her early 90's wardrobe.

And that's just the way you wanted her:
Some dolled-up one-night companion
So you can forget the wedding and the kids.

But the jokes are finally over
In the moonlight you're confronted
With the unconscious and fickle power of your limbs.

And the naked girl she's talking
With her mind above the ceiling
She can take all of your words for what they're worth.

But that's not the way you wanted her:
You just wanted a soft pillow
To squeeze and pierce and feel you're drowning in.

And she laughs at your compulsion
To give sense to every sentence
And you hate her when she smiles: she seems so free.

Pink, blue, green: the colours of the feathers of the Sphinx
The riddle has been solved, but a mystery is still creeping
There's so many questions left to be unspoken.
But then again, I got my couch, a bed to sleep and my dinner's warm
So I don't really care much what my lover wanted.

When the times they were a-changing
I was giving too much a-credit
To the voices in my head.

Now the tide has left my bedroom
And I'm finally a survivor
Of the diagraphic beast.

Now and then my feelings linger
In the spacetime of a sunny street
When I'm supposed to be at work.

And the girl sometimes she's naked
But it's nice to see her dressed
In the pyjamas of our home. 

Once I heard my mother crying:
"You're still trying to make a living,
We'll soon be leaving from this world."

And my old man gazes shyly
At the man that I turned out to be
I can't tell whether he's glad or just confused.

Pink, blue, green: the colours of the feathers of the Sphinx
The riddle has been solved, but a mystery is still creeping
There's so many questions left to be unspoken.
But then again, I got my couch, a bed to sleep and my dinner's warm
So I don't really care much what my mother thinks.

In the mellow liquid mornings
I have memories of raging grins
From that scary tidal swarming of teeth.

I have knowledge I cannot employ
And skills that I cannot avoid
I would love to see them useful someday soon.

And the girl, she's still a bandit
She names all the things she comes to see
And the name she chose for me, it was "My Love".

Oh her eyes are windows on the world
When she stares at me I'm naked, bald
And the war within my innards feels so plain.

So I'm sorry if I let myself
Flow down the sink, into the basement
To lay down into the cool and moisty wastes.

I am sorry if I can't decide
To call me out or call you mine
I was just going to get a sandwich and a coke.
© Carlo Moretti 2019