[Verse 1]
The meadowlark and the chim-choo-ree and the sparrow
Set to the sky in a flying spree, for the sport of the pharaoh
Little while later the Pharisees dragged a comb through the meadow
Do you remember what they called up to you and me, in our window?
There is a rusty light on the pines tonight;
Sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow, into the
Bones of the birches, and the spires of the churches, jutting out from the shadows;
The yoke, and the axe, and the old smokestacks, and the bale, and the barrow—
And everything sloped, like it was dragged from a rope, in the mouth of the south below
We've seen those mountains kneeling, felten and grey
We thought our very hearts would up and melt away
From that snow in the nighttime
Just going and going
And the stirring of wind chimes
In the morning
In the morning
Helps me find my way back in
From the place where I have been—
And, Emily, I saw you last night by the river
I dreamed you were skipping little stones across the surface of the water—
Frowning at the angle where they were lost, and slipped under forever
In a mud-cloud, mica-spangled, like the sky'd been breathing on a mirror
Anyhow, I sat by your side, by the water
You taught me the names of the stars overhead, that I wrote down in my ledger—
Though all I knew of the rote universe were those Pleiades, loosed in December
I promised you I'd set them to verse so I'd always remember
[Chorus]
That the meteorite is the source of the light
And the meteor's just what we see;
And the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee
And the meteorite’s just what causes the light
And the meteor’s how it’s perceived;
And the meteoroid’s a bone thrown from the void, that lies quiet in offering to thee
[Verse 2]
You came and lay a cold compress upon the mess I'm in;
Threw the windows wide and cried, "Amen! Amen! Amen!"
The whole world stopped to hear you hollering
You looked down, and saw, now, what was happening:
The lines are fading in my kingdom
(Though I have never known the way to border them in);
So the muddy mouths of baboons and sows, and the grouse, and the horse, and the hen
Grope at the gate of the looming lake that was once a tidy pen
And the mail is late, and the great estates are not lit from within
The talk in town's becoming downright sickening
In due time we will see the far buttes lit by a flare
I've seen your bravery, and I will follow you there
And row through the nighttime
So healthy
Gone healthy all of a sudden
In search of a midwife
Who can help me
Who can help me
Help me find my way back in
And there are worries where I've been
And say, say, say, in the lee of the bay
Don't be bothered
Leave your troubles here
Where the tugboats shear the water from the water
(Flanked by furrows, curling back, like a match held up to a newspaper)
Emily, they'll follow your lead by the letter
And I make this claim, and I'm not ashamed to say I knew you better
What they've seen is just a beam of your sun that banishes winter
Let us go! Though we know it's a hopeless endeavor
The ties that bind, they are barbed and spined, and hold us close forever
Though there is nothing would help me come to grips with
A sky that is gaping and yawning
There is a song I woke with on my lips
As you sailed your great ship towards the morning
Come on home. The poppies are all grown knee-deep by now
Blossoms all have fallen, and the pollen ruins the plow
Peonies nod in the breeze
And while they wetly bow
With hydrocephalitic listlessness
Ants mop up their brow
And everything with wings is restless, aimless, drunk and dour;
The butterflies and birds collide at hot, ungodly hours
And my clay-colored motherlessness rangily reclines—
Come on home, now! All my bones are dolorous with vines
Pa pointed out to me, for the hundredth time tonight
The way the ladle leads to a dirt-red bullet of light
Squint skyward and listen—
Loving him, we move within his borders:
Just asterisms in the stars' set order
We could stand for a century
Staring
With our heads cocked
In the broad daylight at this thing:
Joy
Landlocked in bodies that don’t keep—
Dumbstruck with the sweetness of being
Till we don’t be
Told: take this
Eat this
[Chorus]
Told: the meteorite is the source of the light
And the meteor's just what we see;
And the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee
And the meteorite’s just what causes the light
And the meteor’s how it’s perceived;
And the meteoroid’s a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee
Emily was written by Joanna Newsom.
Emily was produced by Van Dyke Parks & Joanna Newsom.
Joanna Newsom released Emily on Mon Nov 06 2006.
Like every other song on this record, “Emily” is deeply biographical. The Emily in the song is my sister, who’s an astrophysicist; the narrator is myself, who is not an astrophysicist. Emily is the wanderer; she lives in Argentina and sometimes New Zealand. I’m not a wanderer, which is funny because...