A Poem Of Underground Wall

Höfundur lags: Paul Simon Höfundur texta: Paul Simon Flytjandi: Simon and Garfunkel Sent inn af: Anonymous
[F]The [C]last train [Dm]is    [C]nearly due,
The [Am]under[E7]ground is [Am]closing soon,
And [F]in the [C]dark de[Dm]serted [C]station
[Am]Restless [E7]in an[Am]ticipation,
A [F]man waits in the [C]shadows. [F]    [C]    [G]    [Am]    

His [F]restless [C]eyes [Dm]leap and [C]scratch,
At [Am]all that [E7]they can [Am]touch or catch,
And [F]hidden [C]deep with[Dm]in his [C]pocket,
[Am]Safe with[E7]in his [Am]silent socket,
He [F]holds a colored [C]crayon. [F]    [C]    [G]    [Am]    

Now [F]from the [C]tunnel's [Dm]stony [C]womb,
The [Am]carriage [E7]rides to [Am]meet the groom,
And [F]opens [C]wide and [Dm]welcome [C]doors,
But he [Am]hesi   [E7]tates, [Am]then withdraws
[F]Deeper in the [C]shadows. [Am]    

And the train is gone suddenly
On [C]wheels clicking silently
Like a [F]gently tapping li[Em]ta-   [Dm]ny,   
And he [Am]holds his crayon rosary
[F]Tighter in his [C]hand. [Am]    

Now [F]from his [C]pocket [Dm]quick he [C]flashes
The [Am]crayon [E7]on the [Am]wall he slashes,
[F]Deep up[C]on the [Dm]adver[C]tising,
A [Am]single [E7]worded [Am]poem comprised
Of [F]four letters. [C]    

And his [F]heart is [C]laughing, [Dm]screaming, [C]pounding,
The [Am]poem a[E7]cross the [Am]tracks rebounding
[F]Shadowed [C]by the [Dm]exit [C]light
His [Am]legs take [E7]their a[Am]scending flight
To [F]seek the [C]breast of [Am]darkness [E7]and be [Am]suckled by the night.

The last train is nearly due,
The underground is closing soon,
And in the dark deserted station
Restless in anticipation,
A man waits in the shadows.

His restless eyes leap and scratch,
At all that they can touch or catch,
And hidden deep within his pocket,
Safe within his silent socket,
He holds a colored crayon.

Now from the tunnel's stony womb,
The carriage rides to meet the groom,
And opens wide and welcome doors,
But he hesitates, then withdraws
Deeper in the shadows.

And the train is gone suddenly
On wheels clicking silently
Like a gently tapping lita-ny,
And he holds his crayon rosary
Tighter in his hand.

Now from his pocket quick he flashes
The crayon on the wall he slashes,
Deep upon the advertising,
A single worded poem comprised
Of four letters.

And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding,
The poem across the tracks rebounding
Shadowed by the exit light
His legs take their ascending flight
To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night.

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