A man walks down the street,
He says, "Why am I soft in the middle, now?
Why am I soft in the middle?
The rest of my life is so hard.
I need a photo-opportunity,
I want a shot at redemption,
don't want to end up a cartoon
in a cartoon graveyard.
Sometimes when people meet me,
they think I look the sad type,
but when I look in the mirror
I see someone that's learned it all the hard way.
When I pretend I’m happy
I never feel that sappy,
I'm only painting the clouds with sunshine.
I'd rather be a shadow than a veil.
Yes, I would,
If I could,
I surely would.
When I hold back a tear
To make a smile appear
I'm only painting the clouds with sunshine.
Eighteen and jaded with a gun in my hands.
I was fighting for freedom and just what is that?
Bills to the banks and food for the kids,
money for college but couldn't get in.
It was violent times,
And you shouldn't have to sell your soul.
In black and white
They really, really ought to know.”
A man walks up the street,
He says, ”Well hey little Hollywood!
You're gone but you don't forget!
You got the cash but your credit's no good!
You flipped the script; you shot the plot!
Now Shout, shout, let it all out!
These are the things you could do without!
Come on, I'm talking to you, come on!
Walking toward him, Hollywood begins to shout,
“All around me are familiar faces,
worn out places, worn out faces,
bright and early for the daily races,
going nowhere, going nowhere!
Getting closer to him, he quiets down and says,
“Now I've heard there was a secret chord
that I could play, and it’ll please the Lord.
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth,
the minor falls, the major lifts,
the baffled king composing Hallelujah.
But why am I short of attention?
Got a short little span of attention.
And, whoa, my nights are so long.
Where's my life and future?
What if I die here?
Who was my role model?
Oh, was my role model always there?"
The man starts speaking with Hollywood,
“Now, I have a secret to tell,
From my electrical well.
It's a simple message and I'm leaving out the whistles and bells.
So, you must listen to me,
filibuster vigilantly.
My name is blue canary, one note, spelled L-I-T-E.
My story's infinite,
like the Longines Symphonette, it doesn't rest.
I’m hoping and waiting for something to sing
like the angels in heaven or the bones on the street.
I’m hoping for life to find a new voice.
Oh, the song that needs singing has already been sung before.”
Hollywood says solemnly to Lite,
“I might put on my blue suede shoes
and board a plane.
I’ll touch down in the land of the Delta Blues
in the middle of the pouring rain.
Buddy Holly, will you look down over me?
I’ll get a first-class ticket,
but I'm as blue as a boy can be.
Those one-track minds,
they took me for a serving boy,
kiss them goodbye.
I shouldn't have to jump for joy.
You shouldn't have to jump for joy.
I'd rather sail away,
like a swan that's here and gone.
And I find it kind of funny,
I find it kind of sad,
the dreams in which I'm dying
are the best I've ever had.
I find it hard to tell you,
I find it hard to take,
when people run in circles it's a very, very,
mad world.”
Lite says to Hollywood,
“I could be your only friend.
I'm not your only friend,
but I'm a little glowing friend,
but really, I'm not actually your friend,
but I am.
Your faith was strong, but you needed proof.
You saw the rivers running all aloof,
their beauty in the moonlight overthrew you.
You were tied to a kitchen chair,
they broke your throne, and they cut your hair,
and from your lips they drew the Hallelujah.
They gave you life
and in return you gave them Hell,
as cold as ice.
I hope you live to tell the tale."
Hollywood says angrily,
“Well, humans are boring, dangerous morons,
with no respect for life.
And maybe the rabbit who lives in the forest
is clever-er than our dads.
And maybe it's time we watch the sun rise
knowing it's our last,
as life soldiers on without us,
just a figment of the past.”
They start walking up the street
And Hollywood says,
“A long, long time ago,
I can still remember how that music
used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
and maybe they'd be happy for a while.
I look to the sea.
Reflections in the waves spark my memory,
Some happy some sad,
I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had.
We live happily forever,
so the story goes,
but somehow we missed out
on that *** of gold.
But we'll try best that we can
to carry on.”
A gathering of angels
appeared above his head,
they sang to him this song of hope
and this is what they said,
they said: “come sail away, come sail away,
Come sail away with us.”
Hollywood looks around,
he’s on a street in a strange world.
Maybe it's the third world,
maybe it's his first time around.
Doesn't speak the language,
He holds no currency.
He is a foreign man.
He is surrounded by the sound, the sound
of cattle in the marketplace,
scatterings and orphanages.
He looks around, around,
He sees angels in the architecture,
spinning in infinity,
He says, "Amen and Hallelujah!"
Lite mutters, “Well, maybe there's a God above,
as for me all I've ever learned from life
is how to shoot somebody who outdrew you.
But it's not a crime that you're here tonight,
it's not some pilgrim who claims to have seen the light.
No, it's a cold and it's a very broken Hallelujah.
But soon I’ll be all a shiver
With every paper I deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep,
I won’t take one more step,
But I’ll remember to cry
When I read about this dismembered guy.”
Hollywood says to Lite, he says,
“Did you write the book of life,
And do you have faith in God’s strife,
If that book tells you so?
Now, do you believe in rock 'n' roll?
Can music save your mortal soul?
And can you show me how to entrance and glow?
If you'll be my bodyguard,
I can be your long-lost pal.
I can call you Lyre,
And Lyre, when you call me, you can call me Oll.”
Lite says to Hollywood,
“Now, for ten years we've been wandering alone,
And moss grows fat on a rollin' stone.
But that's not how it needs to be.
When a jester sings for the king and queen
in a quote he borrowed and painted green
And a voice that’ll come from you and me.
Painting the blue, beautiful hues,
colored with gold and old rose.
He’s playing the clown,
trying to drown all of his woes.
Though things may not look bright,
they all turn out alright
if he keeps painting the clouds with sunshine.
Hollywood chimes in,
“Well, I don't know why I talked to you tonight.
I've got the feeling that something ain't right.
I'm so scared in case I fall through the air,
and I'm wondering what fruit this talk bears.”
Lite looks off into the distance and says,
“There's a feeling I get when I look to the West,
and my spirit is crying for leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees
and the voices of those who stand looking,
that's you.
And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune,
then a jester will lead us to reason
and a new day will dawn for those who stand long.
And the forests will echo with laughter.
Remember laughter?
Always look on the bright side of life,
Always look on the Lite side of life.
If life seems jolly rotten
Then there's something you've forgotten,
and that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dump,
don't be silly chump,
Just purse your lips and whistle, that's the thing.
And
life is for singing,
and life is for dancing,
and life is for making love.
Life is for learning and thinking and teaching,
and life isn't giving up.
Life isn't buying and selling and wishing
that everything came for free.
Repeat after me:
Always look on the bright side of Lite.”
Hollywood looks to the distance with Lite,
“Well, life is for sharing.
but sometimes it's hard when you've hardly got enough.
Sharing is caring
but will you still care if the water gets really rough.
Life jackets on, lifeboats supported,
and people will drown the same,
As the water of life falls out of the sky
and washes the whole thing away.
Lite looks at Hollywood, “Well Oll, I've been here before.
I know this room and I've walked this floor.
You see I used to walk alone before I knew ya,
And I've seen your flag on a marble arch.
But listen, life,
life is not some kind of victory march, no,
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.
Oh, and while the king is looking down
the jester will steal his ***** crown.
The courtroom will adjourn,
no verdict will return,
and while leaning into the teeth of sharks,
a quartet practices in the park,
and we sing dirges in the dark,
the day the music dies.”
Hollywood realizes something,
“Well Lyre, you’re the picture opposite me,
of my primitive ancestry,
which stood on rocky shores and kept the beaches shipwreck free.
Though I respect that a lot
I'd be fired if that were my job,
after killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts.
Bluebird of friendliness,
like guardian angels, you’re always near.
Oh, Life is for livin’, as long as I'm breathin’
my life won't be wasted on me.
Now I've done my best, I know it wasn't much.
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch.
I've told the truth, I didn’t talk to you, Lyre, just to fool you.
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand right here before the Lord of song
with nothing, nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah.”
Then Hollywood whispers to Lite, who is drawing his gun,
“it's a cold and it's a very broken Hallelujah.”
Grinning, he pulls the trigger.
And so, the bullet of Hollywood’s gun went so deep;
And Lite’s belly closed upon the shrapnel,
so that he could not draw the bullet out;
and the dirt came out.
