Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Places "The walking man"






"The rhythm of walking generates a kind of rhythm of thinking, and the passage through a landscape echoes or stimulates the passage through a series of thoughts. This creates an odd consonance between internal and external passage, one that suggests that the mind is also a landscape of sorts and that walking is one way to traverse it. A new thought often seems like a feature of the landscape that was there all along, as though thinking were traveling rather than making."








Moving in silent desperation
Keeping an eye on the Holy Land
A hypothetical destination
Say, who is this walking man?
Well, the leaves have come to turning
And the goose has gone to fly
And bridges are for buning
So don`t you let that yearning Pass you by
Walking man, walking man walks
Well, any other man stops and talks
But the walking man walks
Well the frost is on the pumpkin
And the hay is in the barn
An Pappy`s come to rambling on
Stumbling around drunk Down on the farm
And the walking man walks
Doesn`t know nothing at all
Any other man stops and talks
But the walking man walks on by
Walk on by
Most everybody`s got seed to sow
It ain`t always easy for a weed to grow, oh no
So he don`t hoe the row for no one
Oh for sure he`s always missing
And something is never quite right
Ah, but who would want to listen to you
Kissing his existence good night
Walking man walk on by my door
Well, any other man stops and talks
But not the walking man
He`s the walking man
Born to walkWalk on walking man
Well now, would he have wings to fly
Would he be free
Golden wings against the sky
Walking man, walk on by
So long, walking man, so long