Friday, May 11, 2007

Easy money, hard rain

(It was just a dream nine months ago. Then my life was all following the signs of the dream. I did all the stuff...Making love for 10 pence, paying the bills of someone else, searching for the bank, going down to the basement of universe, missing the way back, melting the rose and raining....I saw the last part in the midnight when I was smoking alone in the garden...Now I know what was all about....The chubby girl, the girl in dark, the stairs, the indoor market, the old Persian security, my friends, the old English mentor, the dead town, the empty garden, the concrete table and the rose...Last night it was raining in Birmingham and still is...)

It's difficult, It's very tough.
I said to the man who'd been sleeping rough
To sit within a fragrant breeze

All among the nodding trees
That hang heavy with the stuff
He threw his arms around my neck
He brushed the tear from my cheek
And held my soft white hand
He was an understanding man
He did not even barely hardly speak

Easy money
Rain it down on the wife and the kids
Rain it down on the house where we live
Rain until you got nothing left to give
And rain that ever-loving stuff down on me
All the things for which my heart yearns
Gives joy in diminishing returns
He kissed me on the mouth
His hands they headed south
And my cheek it burned

Money, man, it is a bitch
The poor, they spoil it for the rich
With my face pressed in the clover
I wondered when this would be over
And at home we are all so guilty-sad

Easy money
Pour it down the open drain
Pour it all through my veins
Pour it down, yeah, let it rain
And pour that ever-loving stuff down on me

Now, I'm sitting pretty down on the bank
Life shuffles past at a low interest rate
In the money-coloured meadows
And all the interesting shadows
They leap up, then dissipate

Nick cave

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