In the attics of my life

[ET Awful]

Full of cloudy dreams unreal
Full of tastes no tongue can know
And lights no eye can see
When there was no ear to hear
You sang to me

I have spent my life
Seeking all that's still unsung
Bent my ear to hear the tune
And closed my eyes to see
When there were no strings to play
You played to me

In the book of love's own dream
Where all the print is blood
Where all the pages are my days
And all my lights grow old
When I had no wings to fly
You flew to me

You
flew
to me

In the secret space of dreams
Where I dreaming lay amazed
When the secrets all are told
And the petals all unfold
When there was no dream of mine
You dreamed of me

[flakey_foont]

1. good ol' Robert Hunter

that boy has a way with words

[CaliforniaPeggy]

2. That is amazingly graceful....

So beautiful. Thank you for posting it, so we could all enjoy it.

[RandomKoolzip]

3. I have a tape of them rehearsing this song in 1976....

It is as damn perfect a version as we'll ever hear. That song was tailor made for that creamy, gleaming 1976 sound.

[kodi]

4. love hunter's work but ripple is my favorite

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come thru the music,
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

It’s a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken,
Perhaps they’re better left unsung.
I don’t know, don’t really care
Let there be songs to fill the air.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.

There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

But if you fall you fall alone,
If you should stand then who’s to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home.

if you have seen the dead's "from anthem to beauty" hunter talks about how he was sitting in a hotel room in london with a case of wine and wrote several of the lyrics for american beauty in a single afternoon. he has this almost wistful look on his face as he describes it, but he ends with the attitude that while those times might be past for him, others will have similar experiences as he had when writing.

great attitude, just a link in the chain.

[China_cat]

5. This was the processional at our wedding

One More Saturday Night for the recessional. :)