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Tom Sawyer by Rush.

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Crazy Guggenheim Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-28-06 01:30 AM
Original message
Tom Sawyer by Rush.
A modern-day warrior
Mean mean stride,
Today’s tom sawyer
Mean mean pride.

Though his mind is not for rent,
Don’t put him down as arrogant.
His reserve, a quiet defense,
Riding out the day’s events.
The river

And what you say about his company
Is what you say about society.
Catch the mist, catch the myth
Catch the mystery, catch the drift.

The world is, the world is,
Love and life are deep,
Maybe as his eyes are wide.

Today’s tom sawyer,
He gets high on you,
And the space he invades
He gets by on you.

No, his mind is not for rent
To any God or government.
Always hopeful, yet discontent,
He knows changes aren’t permanent,
But change is.

And what you say about his company
Is what you say about society.
Catch the witness, catch the wit,
Catch the spirit, catch the spit.

The world is, the world is,
Love and life are deep,
Maybe as his skies are wide.

Exit the warrior,
Today’s tom sawyer,
He gets high on you,
And the energy you trade,
He gets right on to the friction of the day.

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MrSlayer Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-28-06 01:33 AM
Response to Original message
1. Great tune.
Neil Peart rules.
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Lady Effingbroke Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sat Jan-28-06 01:39 AM
Response to Original message
2. I've always been partial to Red Barchetta.
My uncle has a country place
That no one knows about.
He says it used to be a farm,
Before the Motor Law.
And on Sundays I elude the Eyes,
And hop the Turbine Freight
To far outside the Wire,
Where my white-haired uncle waits.

Jump to the ground
As the Turbo slows to cross the Borderline.
Run like the wind,
As excitement shivers up and down my spine.
Down in his barn,
My uncle preserved for me an old machine,
For fifty-odd years.
To keep it as new has been his dearest dream.

I strip away the old debris
That hides a shining car.
A brilliant red Barchetta
From a better, vanished time.
I fire up the willing engine,
Responding with a roar.
Tires spitting gravel,
I commit my weekly crime...

Wind-
In my hair-
Shifting and drifting-
Mechanical music-
Adrenalin surge...

Well-weathered leather,
Hot metal and oil,
The scented country air.
Sunlight on chrome,
The blur of the landscape,
Every nerve aware.

Suddenly ahead of me,
Across the mountainside,
A gleaming alloy air-car
Shoots towards me, two lanes wide.
I spin around with shrieking tires,
To run the deadly race,
Go screaming through the valley
As another joins the chase.

Drive like the wind,
Straining the limits of machine and man.
Laughing out loud
With fear and hope, I've got a desperate plan.
At the one-lane bridge
I leave the giants stranded at the riverside.
Race back to the farm, to dream with my uncle at the fireside.
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