Sawdust & Diamonds - Joanna Newsom

From the top of the flight 
Of the wide, white stairs 
Through the rest of my life 
Do you wait for me there? 

There's a bell in my ears 
There's a wide white roar 
Drop a bell down the stairs 
Hear it fall forevermore 

Drop a bell off of the dock 
Blot it out in the sea 
Drowning mute as a rock; 
Sounding mutiny 

There's a light in the wings 
Hits this system of strings 
From the side while they swing; 
See the wires, the wires, the wires 

And the articulation 
In our elbows and knees 
Makes us buckle as we couple in endless increase 
As the audience admires 

And the little white dove 
Made with love, made with love: 
Made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers 

Swings a low sickle arc 
From its perch in the dark 
Settle down 
Settle down my desire 

And the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor 
Though no longer bereft, how I shook and I couldn't remember 

Then the furthermost shake drove a murdering stake in 
And cleft me right down through my center 
And I shouldn't say so, but I know that it was then, or never 

Push me back into a tree 
Bind my buttons with salt 
Fill my long ears with bees 
Praying: please, please, please, 
Love, you ought not! 
No you ought not! 

Then the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings 
(cut from cardboard and old magazines) 
Makes me warble and rise like a sparrow 
And in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood 
A cord or two, which you chop and you stack in your barrow 

It is terribly good to carry water and chop wood 
Streaked with soot, heavy booted and wild-eyed; 
As I crash through the rafters 
And the ropes and pulleys trail after 
And the holiest belfry burns sky-high 

Then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision 
While, somewhere, with your pliers and glue you make your first incision 
And in a moment of almost-unbearable vision 
Doubled over with the hunger of lions 
'Hold me close', cooed the dove 
Who was stuffed, now, with sawdust and diamonds 

I wanted to say: why the long face? 
Sparrow, perch and play songs of long face 
Burro, buck and bray songs of long face! 
Sing: I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay 
Just to lift your long face 

And though it may be madness, I will take to the grave 
Your precious longface 
And though our bones they may break, and our souls separate 
- why the long face? 
And though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil 
- why the long face? 

In the trough of the waves 
Which are pawing like dogs 
Pitch we, pale-faced and grave, 
As I write in my log 

Then I hear a noise from the hull 
Seven days out to sea 
And it is the damnable bell! 

And it tolls - well, I believe, that it tolls - for me! 
It tolls for me! 

Though my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break 
Still, my dear, I would have walked you to the very edge of the water 
And they will recognise all the lines of your face 
In the face of the daughter of the daughter of my daughter 

Darling, we will be fine, but what was yours and mine 
Appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes 
But if it's all just the same, then will you say my name: 
Say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks? 

I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight 
No, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright 
So: enough of this terror 
We deserve to know light 
And grow evermore lighter and lighter 
You would have seen me through 
But I could not undo that desire 

Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh desire 
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh desire 
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh desire 

From the top of the flight 
Of the wide, white stairs 
Through the rest of my life 
Do you wait for me there