page contents

Cristine of the River

Cristine of the River

by Alan Lewis Silva

Released 02/29/2016
Lusitone Records
Released 02/29/2016
Lusitone Records
This is a zippy hop step in a travel hour waiting for a place in line at a local place with things to do. Download the $1 digital album at CDbaby.com.
NOTES
ALL SONGS WRITTEN BY ALAN LEWIS SILVA
All songs copyright © 2016 by Alan Lewis Silva


1. Cristine of the River

Oh, Cristine of the River,
You’re not a saint to me
You carry with you all your lovers
Well, there’s no comfort recently

They put your masks by the fire,
And your crucifixes burn,
But for your skills of conversation
You know there’s nothing you have learned

I hear your prayers to your goddess
In the quiet of the night…
But I’m so tired and so sick
In the carnival light—

I sleep and dream of your beauty
Blinded by my pride,
But you know you’re crippled when you’re holy,
But you cannot die

O Cristine, you’re the giver—
Oh, won’t you give to me?
You know
That what you’d lend I’d happily receive,

For I’m the one that has nothing,
But you hid that from me
I seen your legs in the shadows,
But I’m deceived endlessly

I want to go into your room
Like myself and unlike others,
See you and touch and breathe you in
With your solitude

My feet drift through this world
They don’t stop. They don’t desist—
They fall through tripwire in the darkness,
Looking for you in what does not exist

I cannot help you now
You’re helpless, just the same as me
You know,
If you wanted to hold someone,

I’m here for free,

But in a place like this
It’s so hard to recognize
If the stars are really just holes in a blanket
Or gas in the sky

Oh, so I dream,
And I dream—
And I dream…
And I dream
Mmmmmmmhmmmmmmmmmmm…


2. Cruel ‘44

Our friends, they sat before us
As we walked in from the pool

Your hair was wet with chlorine,
But it didn’t cover the drool

I always did protect you
Keep my eyes on where you been,
But it doesn’t really matter
When you’re not in love with me

We clamored, and we anchored,
And we got up off the boat

Some years have passed again,
And then she said that we might float

The tale of years comes,
And I thought I had the score,
But it all changed
With the Cruel ‘44

Well, I never would have bargained
For a chest of golden ore
If I’d known of just one second
‘Bout the Cruel ‘44

The tale of time recedes me now
I’m looking for the other shore,
Maybe down in East Timor where
Where love won’t make me sore

She always was faithful
She always was pure

Mary Magdalenie
Or the blessed virgin saint

But it doesn’t matter on a hill of Death
With an angelic sword
If you use, they don’t come across
Too well in the Cruel ‘44

Well, times have changed,
I’m not the same. My hair has turned to flax

The alchemy of what I’m made
Could give you a heart attack

Another brother on the boat,
Another in the wing,
Maybe down in Mozambique
We can be free

I never would have bargained
For a chest of golden ore
If I’d known a-just one second
About the Cruel ‘44

The tale of time recedes me now,
And looking I’m lookin’ for the other shore
Well, maybe down in East Timor
Love won’t make me sore—

Now the women of Pan carry me
To a place I cannot name
In Anchorage, Alaska,
I believe they cut my mane

Now there’s too much competition
In the simple life to extol
Get back, get back, you younger men
From the Cruel ‘44!

The day is blue; the sky is white
No room is left to fly a kite
The magic
Is everywhere
Maybe I’ll let it out one night

So it’s one shot for the barley boy,
A drag for the teepee,

A ray of light for the golden girl,
A banana for the last TV…

Now the ocean has to carry me
Across to that shore
Waiting in Moab
For the Cruel ‘44

Well, I never would have bargained
For a chest of golden ore
If I’d known for just one second
‘Bout the Cruel ‘44

The tale of time recedes me
Now I’m lookin’ for the other shore,
Maybe down somewhere
Where love won’t make me sore


3. Cure Looking

In a city by the mountain
On the path to Fabled Fountains
Was a singer with a guitar and a suit
He had a few friends, too,
Which related
To the maiden,
Guinevere

He told her a tale
Of lions, birds, and bears
She responded, which was fair,
For kittens, swans, and mares
Were symbols of her dreams
For long
She asked,
“But, would you play me a song?”

For certain he would answer the request
He was smitten and confessed
It was curious to listen

For long a sound to blend
Would be her voice and his guitar,
Which was when their song commenced—

And where they passed the hills were ringing,
For melodies of love are singing

And they cooed like doves in evenings
The time was a rare blessing,

But dreams don’t often fit;
Hers made her sick

He went looking for a cure
Wherever it might be found
In ovens, or in churches,
Or in cities by the sea
But the fog covers over
The city
Where she was sleeping

Now it’s a mist unbroken,
No idle spirit spoken,
Her voice unawoken

The newspapers told of the deaths
Of many brides

Yes, yes, you should have known him then
Yes, yes

Yes, yes, you should have known him then
Yes, yes

The poison was the cure;
The cure was the key
The key was the cure
Because he was so deeply hurt—

When he went looking for a cure
He was looking for a cure
When he was looking for a cure,

Yes, yes, you should have known him then
Yes, yes, yes, yes


4. Dada

I don’t wanna be another midnight rambler,
An ex-police,
Or an axe-man’s manager

Meet me at the white sombrero
With the gambler

We’ll cut through the turkey
And eat the bone matter

There’s room with the Pigs
In the Pen and the Poke

And if they don’t like you,
Then they’ll turn you into smoke

You try to play it folk,
And they call you “Bob Dylan”

The last time in September

Dada

I woke up self-conscious in a pool of blood
I tripped over a fence, but I fell in the mud,

A white sombrero by my side
As the Moon did glow,

Bendin’ over a mountain
With a voice sayin’, “Dada”

Dada


5. Dead Museum

Don’t put me here my friend,
In the hollows of your mind,
Where what’s come and gone has been
Like creatures never seen again

Don’t unlight the candle
Let it start or end—
Take the paper from its path,
Or let the water come in

The dead museum is a prison
It’s not for me
The dead museum's made of money
Don’t put me there

Uh, I'm still breathin’

I did—
What I promised to do
Don’t leave me when I'm helpless
Like a flower’s perfume

Don’t keep me captive
Before you throw me away

The dead museum is a prison
It’s not for me
The dead museum's made of money
Don’t put me there
I'm still breathin’

I’m not a fossil,
Or a painting,
Or an artifact,
I'm not betraying
I might still be tame
Study but don't kill
Don’t extinguish what could teach
I am no use when not existing,
But I'm not a trophy

The dead museum is a prison
It’s not for me
The dead museum's made of money
Don’t put me there

I'm still breathin’


6. Decadent Priest

We are just two monks
In this suffering world

Getting our stuff together,
So we can head down Victory Road

Give me all your stuff
Give me all your stuff

I am a monk in disguise
As a conqueror

No, don’t cry:
There’s a place for you

You can be the servant to the servant of
The slave’s crew

They need someone to spit on them,

Someone to hold up a carrot
Tied to a string,
Hanging on a stick
In front of the donkey:

“I am the King of
“Mass Jobs
“I’ll give anybody one”

My friend here,
He’s waitin’
For his woman to arrive
With the custard beans and the celery

Then he’s going to eat her in a pot
As he smokes some pot

No, but you’ve got to believe
I’m not a warrior at heart
I’m really a decadent priest
In a
Japanese picture scroll


7. Difficult to Explain

Tiles with a pattern
Like a cotton textile
Which is it?
Not the same thing as plaid,
It’s difficult
To explain

Consisting of
Divergent origins
Or exotic oranges,
Which are pleasing to the touch
Of the tongue

Or the cherries that are missed
Therefore, you fit
The characteristics of the oppressed—

The classes keep well away
And only request your care,
Which you must refuse

You melt the honeycomb,
A wax statue

A resident stranger has written you letters,

The starry azulejos
Keep him focused
On eating and sleeping

On eating and sleeping,

Doing things,
Concentrating on the wall,
Enhancing the potent past,

The heat applies,
Responding to magic,
Words that take effect—
Hence, a library

The disappearance of libraries,
Most fragile,
And mystery
Of the mind
He knows

Nothing happens with a desk,
A chair, or clothes,

Or stereo,

But there’s no music playing:
There is no one typing
You can hear the heater,
An electronic fire

Quiet enough to hear a car go by,
Placid enough
To sleep and die
A little bit,

Just a little bit

Tell it to the gypsies
In their language,
Philanthropy
Of orphanages
He sympathizes

With the pang of unwantedness,
Sad-guitar-with-blue-notes
Music,
Things you feel sometimes
On the coldness of your skin


9. Do It Now

Do it now:
Go on a ride
On a train
To Tibet in the rain

Bring the shelter, but not the pain

The center is sliding
Away from central control
Into the horns of melodies

So blow that horn away
For the angels to play
Break that horn
In twain

Do it now
Do it now

The torrent falls too strong
The drought burns
Too long,
And the heavy antler strays

So blow that horn away
For the angels to play
Break that horn
In twain
Do it now
Do it now

Nobody rides alone
Or sits in a vestibule
Or carries luggage

The stationmaster kills
Cows gather with hats that say, “Bill Me”

And the trunks are heavy to lift,
And nothing about them is a gift

The eagle sees twelve

Hawks and doves
In clouds
Peer on paradise and hell,

And the vulture gazes on rugs

So blow that horn away
For the angels to play
Break the horn
In twain
Do it now
Do it now
Do it now
Do it now

(Quiet!)

Do it now
Do it now
Do it now
Do it now


10. Does

I spent my time like a dusty road does,
Like a dusty road goes

I spent my time as a fishing line does
When it’s in the water,
When it’s in the wa’er

I spent my love like a watch goes
You spent my heart like money
You spent my heart like money does
Hmmm—

I cut my wood on pieces of you
I cut my wood on pieces of you

It went straight through
It went straight through me

I spent my time as a dirt road—
I spent my time as a dirt road

A dirt road goes—
You know it does
You know it goes


11. Don’t Give Me Too Much

Give me a little
Don’t give me too much

I might get sick,
Might use it as a crutch

Just give me a little, baby,
Don’t give me too much

Kentucky, Birmingham, Kentucky
I’m livin’
With you in Birmingham, Kentucky
Got a job at the mill,
O lordy-lordy-lord!

O lordy-lordy lord lordy-lordy-lord
O lordy-lordy-lordy-lord lord

I said, “Lord!”

Music on the radio playin’ all night,
Stayin’ up with you until the dawn daylight
Music on the radio,
—Ooooaoweie!

—Break it down

‘65 Chevy,
Got myself a ‘55 Chevy

Take it to the border baby
I’ll take it to the border, to the dock, or the levy

Big wheels turnin’,
Hearts are burnin’


12. Drau

Spiders in the water
In the windowpane

A heart-shaped mistake
Eatin’ away my brain

Friends have fallen out,
And the room is fallen in

Heart-shaped mistake
Pushin’ it over the end

Yellow candles, oranges,
Gold, and silt

You let those things in my dresser
You left me nil,

Like a mannequin
Dressed in shit

Don’t let me down,
But don’t let me out of it

Don’t cry no tears
No, not another one

Everything that is done
Cannot be undone

And what is this feeling,
This feeling of life?

I feel it so close
That it’s drowning me tonight


13. Dream (Live)

O Jorine,
Won’t you come back home?

O Jorine,
Don’t leave me alone

I was walkin’ though the hard rain
When I found you,
But, baby, now I’m cut by the thorns
That surround you

Well, I don’t know where you are
If I could just only talk to you on a phone,
You might anywhere
You might be in Italy, in Rome

You’re the same as me
Baby, I’m the same as you
If you ever think you need it, babe,
I got a home for you

Woa, Jorine,
You’ve gone so far away
Oh Jorine,
Ah, can’t you stay?

But you’re the one I want
You’re the one that I’d adore
You don’t have to walk me down the aisle
If you could only reach my door


14. Dream On, Wisconsin

Early in the mornin’
I'm at it again,
Thinkin’ about this time a year ago—

I was believin’
That you were my friend,
But that's not how the flowers grow

The clear crystal light
Of the,
Brief, winter sun

Bends through
The billows
Of the
Kennedy stream,

And
Refreshenin’ and quickly
The waters do run
Across the legs of my lover

I was believin’
You were my friend,
But now I’m lonesome
In a bed of white linen

The angels know I’m at it again
The first shall be last, and
The loser’ll be winnin’


15. Drinking Tea

A long time ago across the sea,
There were some men with ships inside of the lair
Of fine women
Where they traded for tea,
And it was all fair

It was all fair
It was all fair—

It was all fair
It was all fair

Inside of the ship,
There was a receiver
Which was planted in a
Altar of blondes,
Which connected to the light freer—
Which traced your footprints in the dawn,

And through the cold Sahara sand dunes
And through the drippings of the Moon,

And they drank on the sea

They drank on the sea
Drank tea on the stormy sea

The soldiers had awoken,
And the words were spoken

As they drank on the sea
As they drank on the stormy sea…

It’s unwise to assume

That the flying room

Is just a sphere
Ahead of you,

A sphere,
A head of you…

And they drank on the sea
When they drank on the sea
On the stormy sea


16. Eastern Arches

The eastern arches
Of a continent
The first love of spring
In her fields I grazed
And shared a meal by a stream

As the afternoon broke,
The Moon was faint blue,
And your skin was too hot
Almost
For the journey through

The eastern arches
The eastern arches
The eastern arches!

Love is rare
As you smile and rise
Again

Yes,
I want to go
To the eastern arches

O the Eastern Arches…


16. Eastern Arches (Live)

The eastern arches
I want to go
In the eastern arches
Of the rising sun
To the eastern arches
Of a continent,
The first love of spring

I peer up sideways
And share a meal by a stream
To the eastern arches
I want to go
To the eastern arches
I want to be
In the eastern arches
Of the rising sun

As the afternoon broke,
The Moon was faint blue,
My skin was too hot almost
For the journey through

Love is rare
As you smile and rise again


17. Eating in a Japanese Picture Scroll

I see six people
Talking by the table:

One’s got the face of a joking clown;

One has the face of an animal;

One looks mysterious
With hair covering her face,
But she’s probably ugly;

And then there’s a man
Dressed up looking
Somewhat fashionable;

Then the most beautiful woman;

But she seems to be taken;

There’s a very wise man
Eating mustard from a can,
Spreading the knowledge
Over his
Hamburger

He’s eating it with onions



ALL SONGS WRITTEN BY ALAN LEWIS SILVA
All songs copyright © 2016 by Alan Lewis Silva
Highlights
Interzone
Lusitone Records Newsletter
You can join our free fan club to receive a special, monthly newsletter. Opt-out anytime. We don't spam.