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Morrison Van The Philosopher's Stone Song of Being A Child Words by Peter Handke When the child was a child It walked with arms hanging Wanted the stream to be a river and the river a torrent And this puddle, the sea When the child was a child, it didn't know It was a child Everything for it was filled with life and all life was one Saw the horizon without trying to reach it Couldn't rush itself And think on command Was often terribly bored And couldn't wait Passed up greeting the moments And prayed only with it's lips When the child was a child It didn't have an opinion about a thing Had no habits Often sat crossed-legged, took off running Had a cow lick in it's hair And didn't put on a face when photographed When the child was a child It was the time of the following questions Why am I me and why not you Why am I here and why not there Why did time begin and where does space end Isn't what I see and hear and smell Just the appearance of the world in front of the world Isn't life under the sun just a dream Does evil actually exist in people Who really are evil Why can't it be that I who am Wasn't before I was And that sometime I, the I, I am No longer will be the I, I am When the child was a child It gagged on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding And on steamed cauliflower And now eats all of it and not just because it has to When the child was a child It woke up once in a strange bed And now time and time again Many people seem beautiful to it And now not so many and now only if it's lucky It had a precise picture of paradise And now can only vaguely conceive of it at best It couldn't imagine nothingness And today shudders in the face of it Go for the ball Which today rolls between it's legs With it's I'm here it came Into the house which now is empty When the child was a child It played with enthusiasm And now only with such former concentration Where it's work is concerned When the game, task, activity, subject happens to be it's work When the child was a child It was enough to live on apples and bread. And it's still that way When the child was a child berries fell Only like berries into it's hand. And still do The fresh walnuts made it's tongue raw. And still do Atop each mountain it craved Yet a higher mountain. And in each city it craved Yet a bigger city. And still does Reach for the cherries in the treetop As elated as it still is today Was shy in front of strangers. And still is It waited for the first snow. And still waits that way When the child was a child It waited restlessly each day for the return of the loved one And still waits that way When the child was a child It hurled a stick like a lance into a tree And it's still quivering there today The child, the child was a child Was a child, was a child, was a child, was a child Child, child, child When the child, when the child, when the child When the child, when the child The child, child, child, child, child (added words by Van Morrison) And on and on and on and on, etc. And onward With a sense of wonder Upon the highest hill. Upon the highest hill When the child was a child Are you there Shassas, shassas Up on a highest hill When the child was a child, was a child, was a child Was a child, was a child, was a child, etc. (fade to end) |
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