Comes a time when the blind-man takes your hand, says “Don’t you see?
Gotta make it somehow on the dreams you still believe.”
Don’t give it up, you got an empty cup only love can fill,
only love can fill.
Been walking all morning went walking all night
I can`t see much difference between the dark and light
And I feel the wind And I taste the rain
Never in my mind to cause so much pain.
Comes a time when the blind-man takes your hand, says “Don’t you see?
Gotta make it somehow on the the dreams you still believe.”
Don’t give it up, you got an empty cup only love can fill,
only love can fill.
From day to day just letting it ride.
You get so far away from how it feels inside.
You can’t let go cause you’re afraid to fall,
But the day may come when you can’t feel at all.
The words come out like an angry stream.
You hear yourself say things you could never mean.
When you cool down you find your mind.
You got a lot of words you’ve got to stand behind.
Comes a time when the blind-man takes your hand, says “Don’t you see?
Gotta make it somehow on the dreams you still believe.”
Don’t give it up, you got an empty cup only love can fill,
only love can fill, only love can fill, only love can fill.
but the special one, no matter how cliche a dead song, is the most obvious. I only saw the Dead twice and they didn’t play it.
But 8 years ago today, I dare anyone to tell me if they were at Virginia Beach that they didn’t shed a tear or tears. I know I did, it was beautiful,
We miss you Captain…
Let my inspiration flow in token rhyme, suggesting rhythm,
That will not forsake you, till my tale is told and done.
While the firelight’s aglow, strange shadows from the flames will grow,
Till things we’ve never seen will seem familiar.
Shadows of a sailor, forming winds both foul and fair all swarm.
Down in Carlisle, he loved a lady many years ago.
Here beside him stands a man, a soldier from the looks of him,
Who came through many fights, but lost at love.
While the story teller speaks, a door within the fire creaks;
Suddenly flies open, and a girl is standing there.
Eyes alight, with glowing hair, all that fancy paints as fair,
She takes her fan and throws it, in the lion’s den.
Which of you to gain me, tell, will risk uncertain pains of hell?
I will not forgive you if you will not take the chance.
The sailor gave at least a try, the soldier being much too wise,
Strategy was his strength, and not disaster.
The sailor, coming out again, the lady fairly leapt at him.
That’s how it stands today. You decide if he was wise.
The story teller makes no choice. Soon you will not hear his voice.
His job is to shed light, and not to master.
Since the end is never told, we pay the teller off in gold,
In hopes he will return, but he cannot be bought or sold.
Terrapin Station
Inspiration, move me brightly. Light the song with sense and color;
Hold away despair, more than this I will not ask.
Faced with mysteries dark and vast, statements just seem vain at last.
Some rise, some fall, some climb, to get to Terrapin.
Counting stars by candlelight, all are dim but one is bright;
The spiral light of Venus, rising first and shining best,
On, from the northwest corner, of a brand new crescent moon,
While crickets and cicadas sing, a rare and different tune,
Terrapin Station.
In the shadow of the moon, Terrapin Station.
And I know we’ll get there soon, Terrapin Station.
I can’t figure out, Terrapin, if it’s the end or beginning, Terrapin,
But the train’s put it’s brakes on, Terrapin,
And the whistle is screaming, TERRAPIN.
