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Walnut Street

by Julian Cartwright

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1.
Space itself has been in love since it was a child, has grown, now it’s gettin’ older. But can love stretch a million miles-- a million miles over? Though you’re a million things to me, can land stretch over a million miles of sea? Can I just ask you to be in love’s dimension? In love’s dimension-- once more in love with me? Oh time, time is still in love. In love always, just the same. But can time stretch a million hours every time I call your name? Or is it just standing in the way? Can I call up just to hear you say you’ll be in love’s dimension. In love’s dimension-- once more in love with me.
2.
Below my head of steam there is a reason. There is an engine running mean. It runs through the hilltops, straight through to the plains. Never-ending billows through sunshine and rain. Up here in the clouds, it looks like a snake. Looks like an earthworm, goes at a snail’s pace. Then you see a feather playing in the cloud. Feels like relaxation, not hurried or loud. Fast as a propeller, making no sound. At least, she’s a messenger, flying the world around. So there’s this thing. A bird on the wing flying through my head of steam. So I can sing of birds on the wing. All I care to do till winter turns spring.
3.
Bad Dreams 03:18
Bad dreams, bad dreams follow me most all the day. Bad dreams put me in a stupor. Never woke with a scream for the way things used to be, only bad dreams of the future. Well yesterday was worse than today. Bad dreams don’t see things that way. They won’t look behind to bring peace of mind, only bad dreams’ kind. Bad dreams never learn. You wake up, you toss, and you turn, and all you can say of the following day is that bad dreams burn. Well maybe that bad dream was right cause it came back the following night. Bad dreams never stray in predicting today, but bad dreams never learn. Bad dreams, bad dreams follow me most all the day. Bad dreams put me in a stupor. Never woke with a scream for the way things used to be, only bad dreams of the future.
4.
Wise Woman 03:48
Met a wise woman, my mother’s lawyer’s wife. I didn’t ask for nothing but she gave me some advice. She said, “How do you expect to talk to Him in the everyday if He never finds His way into your songs? First you have to lift your voice, if you want to pray.. You’ve got to lay your burden down. Is the rooster still crowing, does the cow still moo? What about the nonbeliever? What about you?” Wise woman. I didn’t ask for nothing. After some time I did what she wanted me to do. But the third person seemed like a crooked point of view. So I decided to address Him directly: “She told me you’ll deliver, though this would be a change, when I think of how many times I’ve asked you to to arrange for me what I’ve always been wanting: a long life, despite all of the fun things. I guess I would most appreciate you making it more clear what is my fault, and what is not. Yours sincere,” ... and I sang my way out, abbreviating something, of that there is no doubt. Well, the song wasn’t great, but I guess it did the trick. I guess it was the ticket. And for a short time it seemed to set everything right, I’ll admit. I just didn’t want to sing it. And the reason you can see. Wise woman, must be wiser than me.
5.
You hang onto me like a businessman Want me to be what you think I can be. You walk off with me in the setting sun. You want to steal someone though it could be unreal. You hang onto me like I’m all you need. If you looked within, you’d never see me. In the crowded streets there is a queen. She sits inside your heart, she wears your ring. In the heart on the back of your head, there is a friend, and it is she. It is she. You still hang around with me, you still hang around with me. Never gonna set you free. You still hang out with me, you still hang around with me. Can't even set you free.
6.
My Home 03:02
Rose garden on the state line. Walked around it, then I took a drive south to the "mosquito farm". That’s what they call it. Kept my eyes closed and walked on, keeping time, keeping time. Had to go back home, but I didn’t find it. Just walked around around around around it. A home is not so easy to find. And then only if your mind will allow it. I’m in the cedars, testing rhymes. I can hardly get off of me the smell of pines. I’m in a crater by a basin lake. Keep recreating this one mistake and looking in, and looking in. Burgundy leaves made a path for me like mountains form down in the sea. The marble of my homeland is a marble in the sand under a certain tree. A home is not so easy to find, and then it must be on your mind. A home is not so easy to find, but only if it’s on your mind. It’s hard when home is on your mind.
7.
You blessed me with your breeze, Lord, so that I could burn anew. But if I were a tree, Lord, I would shelter you. I walked by when you showed your face inside my soul. I walked so bravely out into the bitter cold. It was nothing to you to give me everything I have. And I gave you nothing in return, feeling so very glad. That is what we grown-up people do. But if I were a tree, Lord, I would shelter you. I know it’s not my place to regulate what other people do. I’d say a prayer for them, but I’d be praying for me too. You blessed me with your breeze, Lord, so that I could breathe anew. And if I were a tree, Lord, I would shelter you. And there’s nowhere I won’t go to hide, I spit and run and kick all through the night. Why don’t you give me roots, so I am held within your sight? If you gave me golden leaves, God, that would be all right. You blessed me with your breeze, Lord, so that I could burn anew. And if I were a tree, Lord, I would shelter you.
8.
At first glance he is awkward, kind of like sap on a tree. The one who walked through the bleaker snarls, the ones that would kill the darlings. No doubt they would be harmed in his sudden hallways. The population pushing walkers also defers, with chattering pearls, to the departing of the bleakest one in the world. The bleakest stuff in the world is not around any more. What happened to the sun to make me miss the bleakest one? And on the far side of town, newspapers are torn, a car door’s left open to accommodate the cheapest coffin. The most basic of apartments went unpainted, that is until today. And kids run into his yard in darkness, their chests pounding for fun, not accounting for the passing of the bleakest one. There are no more empty spaces left since the day it has begun. They were the sole belongings of the bleakest one.
9.
They lit a candle on Walnut Street for gambling, they tell me, a light by which to cheat. You don’t even have to wait for a lucrative hand. Don’t have time to make extraordinary plans. It doesn’t even matter if you haven’t got the money. That’s why they light the candle every Sunday. Walking home Monday, early Monday morning, you know something isn’t right. The stars fall silver while the planet keeps turning, turning and rolls down the sidewalk, out of sight. In the rain I’m spent, when the drops collect on the crossbeams of the fence. I look up and tell the light I’m sorry and the sky shouts back, “You’re in debt.” They lit a candle on Walnut Street They sent a phantom out through the gate. They shut me out at one point. I stood out front, begging to be let back. While morning traffic zipped, I pled my case, I did not have the money to get back. Inside they decided to sit and wait despite the grandfather clock. I ended up begging for cash down the length of Walnut street, and eventually got ten bucks. I went back with the cash and offered it up, thinking I’d win it back. “In no time,” I thought, “I’ll easily win the ten bucks back.” That’s what I thought, standing outside the house, when my friend opened the door just a crack. Said he’d be right back. He burnt my bills to crisp and told me I’d been a dishonest guest. He said, “don’t expect to hear from us.” He told me never to come back to the house. But right before he kicked me out he showed me what was hangin’ out of his cuff. Right before he kicked me out I got a look at what was hangin’ out his cuff. Greenbacks. On Walnut Street.

credits

released August 21, 2015

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Julian Cartwright New Jersey

Julian Cartwright is a songwriter, instrumentalist, composer and arranger based in the Philadelphia area. Instagram @julian.cartwright.songs

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