Lyrics

ACT 9 IMAGINE A WORLD whereby.
Imagine a world
Where the columns of the temple come to life At first stiff and then flexible and flowing Striding down the street a perfect reflection
Of our inner beauty, our inner glory
Reaching here, helping there
Until separation from our brother
Is just a puzzling memory
Instead of quietly sitting in our cubicles at work Wondering how this came to be
So all the people that you’ve heard me Talk about up until now
There was the girl walking village to village There was the man who was unclear There was the couple ...
The girl just wanting to learn about integrity There was the woman in the garden
Or the person who leaned forward and said ‘How beautiful!’
And then by the end you knew all these voices They were just like family. I hope. To me, anyway.
Well, let me go on and talk to you
About this fellow who worked at the corner store People called him ‘Moose’, you can imagine ...
If you talked to him about spirituality
He’d shrug his huge shoulders and say ‘What for?’ Anyway, he’s everything you would not want
In a refined, romantic cavalier, I suppose
But when they came over the hill that day
He out-Thorred Thor
Imagine a world
Where the columns of the temple come to life At first stiff and then flexible and flowing Striding down the street a perfect reflection Of our inner beauty, our inner glory
Reaching here, helping there
Until separation from our brother
Is just a puzzling memory
Instead of quietly sitting in our own apartments Five feet from each other with our own tv
And then there was Pauline, we all agreed That she was cold in some way, unfeeling Well, one wintry day she took me aside And she was unsympathetic to anything
I had to say about my problem
(In which I took pride, I guess)
And for years I wouldn’t talk to her
Even though she tried, I couldn’t see
That kindness could come to me in such a way And when I went to say I saw, it was too late
And Quincy, he’s a hard-assed kid
Who lives under the overpass downtown When he comes at you with a squeegee Well, you kinda sorta wanta duck down But if a baby bird, a cry unheard
A struggling flower, a teen unseen Should fail to take to song, to take wing He’s the first one to their side
He has that healing thing
Imagine a world
Where the columns of the temple come to life
At first stiff and then flexible and flowing
Striding down the street a perfect reflection
Of our inner beauty, our inner glory
Reaching here, helping there
Until separation from our brother
Is just a puzzling memory
Instead of quietly sitting at the family reunion Saying ‘Oh gosh! You don’t want a picture of me!’ Well, actually we do.
And Ramona
She works the library cart in the Third Ward.