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But from this Endless End

by Timothy Jackson Scott

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The Nook 04:35
Who knows, who knows what's true? Maybe I did die May 17th of last year Then which is my punishment: living in Hell Or through this year? If it's true, if it's true someone should speak up Someone should warn me of all the things I'll become: The cold-hearted, bitter and lonesome man; The man I'll become if I spend too much time with myself I've been reading words of living and dead men I've been seeing things the way no man should ever see I've been saying things that'll only make sense to me And I said things I wish you'd have never heard "I don't know, I don't know," repeated ten-fold So if I'm a ghost or a man I'll still be looking for work or for love, or for faith, or for stability Another day, another dollar, but I'm broke and don't feel like borrowing no more I've been reading words of living and dead men I've been seeing things the way no man should ever see I've been saying things that'll only make sense to me And I said things I wish you'd have never heard And I've wished things that regret coming true.
P.S. 04:51
I'm out on the run; a convict of my own or God's own law Lord, now I understand how it feels to be wanted for just some small reward I've seen posters up all around these towns Offering thousands for the man who killed each one he loved So with a hidden face the dust spreads me an outlet of gold To you, the Moon, an almost ever-present source of comfort and care Was it I who sinned? Or was it you erasing pictures of our constant repose? 'Cause I've seen men who've cried over changing tides But I've felt winds shift and bars close with you by my side And tonight you hang so low I could drive straight through you Another night to lay bare To you, the Stars, (so bright, so lovely, so high and far) If they catch me soon, don't flicker, don't dim and don't die For I love you so: As an old man's youth So familiar, so warm and somehow abused Though the clouds shift and sky hovers far and wide Now in chains I wait to swing at the gallows when the Good Lord calls Several men, once friends, over-powered by greed and so alike to me They rode out on horse to arrest the fool They betrayed and one day the Judge will give them the same I hear the bell toll, see guards come to take me away Half a signature bore
Hang Me 02:38
Hang me now by morning light, string me up to die As they throw a passing look, see me glance good-bye With no shake and no shiver I speak through the dust My outlet worn pastel "What thou dost, do quickly, and what you do, do well." Veil me now by noon-time heat, hang me out to dry And I'm no Christ; no saving-one. No, I've come here to lie Come to shake my head, to bare my teeth To be seen now as beast If I soon untwine may my soul soon find peace See me now by moon-lit night, come to paint the sky By the stroke of a brush I leave this plane with my vision set on high Streaks of red and white on my golden hide; A portrait locked of late And as they lay my body down, this portrait I berate
I'm looking for the Wind with his head down Praying for a cause to cease his I'm wondering if it's true that every man can come anew I'm stumbling out against the Wind There's reason for the song the birds are singing There's reason for the men who shoot to kill But there's no reason for a man who'd rather die than come again How I wish to sing their sovereign tune As I'm waking the room snaps and scratches; The light shines a glow upon my sheets Now I wake with a regret heavy as these tired eyes Creaking like these lonesome bones I'm looking for the verse sung by Man and God and Grace And I'm humbled by it's righteous song Wondering where the hell I went wrong I would scurry up the stairs about a moon ago Now the floorboards just dream of what they've lost They withhold their boyish sound; just a bitter silence now; Just a plain night to waste away Beneath the window, old and crooked, sits a crow Whose mouth doesn't open, doesn't close And he waits for a clue, for a sign, or for a close I sit beneath my window too As I'm leaving I'll go looking for my own: For the old man, for the sign, for the close For I'm a coward little kid who couldn't stand to watch him go Now I'll pay my dues in time I'm looking for the verse sung by Man and God and Grace And I hope to go one day to sing along To reverse my own awful song
The Fog sunk a hook in my name Saying, "Son so dim, O, son of shame Your hands held her blur, but now you hold a broken comb," So I cut the line and raced on home But there was a man shooting holes in the sky With a crooked grin he came, addressed me with a sigh And, "No," I said, laughing, "I've got a better place to be," My dishonest smile turned with the key Maybe the Pearly Gates will open up for me But I know, I know the salt and sand will guide me on home But the lights from the side distract from what I should have seen; They hold my glass eyes for all to see The Fog now must watch and append To see the leaving of lovers, the farewell from friends The fireworks set off as the car pulls in "Welcome home, son, now I see what has been: Your clouded eyes, their film of young sin." My dreams are howling up high From the attic and I'll have no place left to lie From the gleam in my windshield I'm reminded by the moon That I left then and I'll leave again soon But I know, I know the salt and sand will guide me on home While the lights from the door run across the yard to take me in Then I'll float up the stairs as a ghost Then I'll rest my eyes and rest my troubled head And when I die I'll be mourned and not missed
Well, I saw you by the door frame, your blue coat and honest eyes And you walked in right by me, (could've sworn I'd catch your eye) In that brief, eternal moment I saw a wonderful display: A lost bird, a waning star all along a vacant sea I still turn my head in spite One night I sat out on the front step. I heard the Moon sing his refrain Right in tune with my own voice; right in tune with all my mind And he was screaming, "Please stay here, my only friend beneath the stars!" He said, "Keep watch of those you keep; each has a way to cut you thin," So I turned my back on him I haven't seen him for months now, (an apology's long overdue) But please hear me sing softly, my lost friend above those stars That portrait still haunts me and there were those who cut me thin And I miss you so dearly. How could I have frayed our bond? I still sit out on that step Then the snow fell in volumes, as if the Heavens had opened up (What could this mean for me now? How could I record these themes?) It feel so slowly, like how you took a year to leave; How you left me so gently; how I never saw you go It seems the Heavens have closed
A Farewell 05:01
On that night, after day so bright, I finally saw the sky After a winter air, full and cold, but bare, with the clouds still grasping the stars And I hummed, "Foul, I to the fountain fly. . ." And I arrived like new in a strangle, old hue But after all, after never seeing fall, (for I was hid and bound by that frame) I designed a tomb; a gray, hidden room for all my useless knowledge It read, "I hold these two: My fault in you And your coming days full of a guilty haze," Now the firmament, the most-blessed event, seems a curse; a thorn in my head And all my picket-signs come to redefine; they send for another to be my help So I say, "All my years could never pay back these fears," And, "Let there be light," The concrete blocks full of starts and stops draw a glare, a reason to kill And the brilliance great from the oblique weight now I hate, now I look for an end It speaks, "Damned be the son who neither waits nor runs But stirs and errs and never looks to confer," To your florid grave, the place I'd dare behave, I write a poem with the roughest of hands And here I find the time for a pathetic rhyme while I draw this fleeting breath With a glittering eye she draws me by And now I paraphrase and lose track of the days But after I had made them leave whereby and closed the door hard behind I shut out the light, but it just wasn't right. It was like saying good-bye to a statue So I say, "Farewell to the lot of you And let me hide myself in Thee,"
I don't have a number, I don't have a name I don't have a number and I'm not one to claim There's a frame in my closet: All the faces I've betrayed There's a picture in that frame marked by all my better days I sent a letter out by sparrow, I sent it out by sea I sent a letter out, love, I even payed that fee: Ten dollars, I do believe May that place treat them well When you left, I swear, you went with a yell Now homesick or lonesome; all asleep or out to gun Now homesick or lonesome. Woe is me, for I am undone I turned inside out; I turned black and blue I turned due south and by the floor I fell through I woke in the morning, I woke in the rain I woke to find that sparrow full of joy and full of pain He plays a shallow game But, O, I play the same May their feet find rest For all you do I hope to give my best May their feet find rest O, I hope to soon be your guest
I've been gone a long time, a long time, a long time Now the thieve turns to the priest and from godsend to grief he descends I'll be gone a long time, a long time, a long time Before the shoot and the seed; before that weather-stricken man I'll receive But I'll come clean; I'll come to clean I'll come to wipe off the dust and still his knees Then I'll be free I've stood by and I have sat, I have sat, I have sat I came to see my lover's eyes, and there reply that O, my soul, I deny I've sat close, and far behind, far behind, far behind And in that seat, all aware, I saw a girl leave alone, eyes despaired But I'll come clean; I'll come to clean I'll come to wipe off the dust and still her knees Then I'll be free By the tree, on a hill, on a hill, on a hill There ran a fox, a rouge of sorts, and from the ground to his nest he descends I have cried, but have not wept, I have not wept, I have not wept Now by bus they arrive for the funeral, a two-way ticket held But I'll come clean; I'll come to clean I'll come to wipe off the dust and still their knees O, set me free
I had worked on my own for awhile As a man who cleaned each crooked mile But I quit when my heart became vile; When my eyes took each passing load Then I lived like a dog for a time On a leash of my own meager rhyme With the whip and lash of each selfish crime Hear me whimper on down the road I swear I'll never know the things you've known Or the gifts that to me you've bestowed See the man who, dragging cigarettes, assumes That the girl sitting way across the room Holds no curse: A foolish thought to presume; A thoughtless act to stare So he'll leave with no sign, no gesture But a sigh, as he grips to his vesture; As he grips to that most nostalgic semester Of a time more or less impaired I swear I'll be nobody's wreck to repair But a tool for each soul in despair By the crossing of Concord and Main Where the church and stone steeple remain There I walked, and tore my fate in twain; There I died, and there I rise


released June 30, 2012


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Timothy Jackson Scott Milford, New Hampshire

Folksinger/songwriter from Milford, NH.

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