I'm sick of blowing smoke out,
|
Trying hard to feel doubt,
|
My book dropped to the ground,
|
At the part where the frontiers are all pulled down,
|
But they couldn't and they wouldn't have,
|
They couldn't and they shouldn't have,
|
Bu they coul and they would have,
|
|
|
I inherited a nature,
|
In a language all worn out,
|
And wallowed by the windows,
|
In a rambling house at the edge of what I couldn't have,
|
I couldn't and I shouldn't have,
|
I could and I should have,
|
|
Someday you will find a heaven,
|
Full of the good and freedom,
|
Of somewhere younger than America,
|
Bordering what we could hope to have,
|
|
Through the north woods,
|
East, out of these slow motion town,
|
Through the willows and the aspens,
|
You've been weighted down,
|
Full of what you couldn't have,
|
You couldn't and you shouldn't have,
|
You could and you should have,
|
|
Someday you will find a heaven,
|
Full of the good and freedom,
|
Of somewhere younger than America,
|
Bordering what we could hope to have,
|
|
And from a first edition,
|
Of 'East of Eden',
|
You found a version of America,
|
Bordering what we could hope to have,
|
|
Someday you will find a heaven,
|
Full of the good and freedom,
|
Of somewhere younger than America,
|
Bordering what we could hope,
|
|
-----------------
|
Younger Than America
|
| Idlewild |
