Baba Brinkman - Mosquito lyrics

Once upon a noontime dreary, while I rested, weak and weary Half the day was done and hunger pains had won me o'er In a truck I sat while eating, with my stomach still entreating Me to eat my fill, depleting all the food I had in store “I'd best save something yet,” I thought, “and not eat all I have in store For later I may hunger more.” Ah, distinctly I remember, ‘twas six months since last December And now summer's radiant ember left few shadows to explore Vainly I had sought to borrow from hard work surcease of sorrow Knowing well that no tomorrow resurrects the day before Nor can any year to come return to me the year before A memory now, forevermore Then this silken, sad, uncertain sound closed round me like a curtain; It thrilled me, filled me with an angst I'd felt a thousand times before So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I sat repeating “‘Tis some insect bent on eating of my blood and nothing more Some small starving insect, merely one of countless thousands more.” And at that, I shut the door Presently, my soul grew stronger; fearing the insect then no longer “Mosquito,” said I, “or black fly, truly your forgiveness I implore But the fact is I was eating, and was startled by your greeting And no doubt sent you retreating from the slamming of my door Enter now though, you are welcome.” Here I opened wide the door; Silence there, and nothing more Far into that silence listening, fearing, perspiration glistening Doubting, awakening to anxieties I had never felt before But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token And my thoughts, though still unspoken, hastened to the year before It was a year of pure enjoyment all too fleeting to endure Unrivalled yet, and evermore Thus I then returned to eating, as my unease was fast and fleeting I turned my intent unto an apple and soon ate it to the core Then to dispose that core I threw it, caring little what or who it Struck upon its course, though to it glancing, up and out the door; And there hovered a Mosquito just outside the crew-cab door Hovered there, and nothing more Startled then and struck by panic, I reached out and with a manic Motion, closed my hand around the handle and drew shut the open door But my effort was not heeded, for the insect, unimpeded Flew into the truck and speeded to the handle of the door And there it perched upon the handle of my foreman's crew-cab door Perched and sat, and nothing more This Mosquito then was steering my sad fancy into sneering By its nature and intent and by the countenance it wore So I said, “Though you've gained entry, surely I'm no royal sentry Admitting only insect gentry through this stately crew-cab door Tell me what thy lordly name is, that thou dare disturb my door.” Quoth the Mosquito, “Nevermore.” Much I marveled this ungainly bug to hear discourse so plainly Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing on the handle of a door Bug or beast upon the handle of his foreman's crew-cab door With such a name as “Nevermore.” But the Mosquito, sitting lonely on that handle, uttered only That one word, as if its soul in that one word did it outpour Nothing further then it uttered, not a wing it flicked or fluttered ‘Til I scarcely more than muttered, “Other times have flown before In a moment it will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.” Then the bug said, “Nevermore.” Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken “Doubtless,” said I, “What it utters is its only stock and store Found through some freakish mutation, or perhaps hallucination Or my mad imagination conjured up that ‘Nevermore.'” My reason dared me to discover how I heard that ‘Nevermore.' My sanity this burden bore But no answer still was given, and as I was fixed and driven I puzzled further at the nature of this insect on my door Farther then from reason sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy into fancy, thinking what this insect on my door What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous insect on my door Meant in saying, “Nevermore.” This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To that bug whose beady eyes now burned into my bosom's core This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the head-rest's plastic lining, and as they had moments before My fancied thoughts soon wandered back to that elated year before Which would return, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, as my excited nerves grew tenser As in my mind I cultured malice for that insect on my door “Wretch!” I spat, “What God has made thee? What silver coin the devil paid thee? Get thee from my sight and fade thee, like my memories of before! Take with thee this crippled quandary and forget the year before!” Quoth the Mosquito, “Nevermore.” “Prophet!” said I, “Thing of evil! Prophet still, if bug or devil! Whether tempter sent or whether coughed up from this clear-cut's core Desolate yet all undaunted, in this forest-land enchanted In this truck by horror haunted, tell me truly I implore Will that year ever return? Tell me, tell me, I implore!” Quoth the Mosquito, “Nevermore.” “Prophet!” said I, “Thing of evil! Prophet still, if bug or devil! By this nature all around us, the only god we both adore Tell this soul replete with sorrow if upon another morrow I will be able to borrow bliss from memories of before Memories of that rare and radiant, lovely, lost, and thus lamented year before Quoth the Mosquito, “Nevermore.” “Be that word our sign of parting, bug or fiend!” I shrieked upstarting; “Get thee back into the wreckage of this tortured clear-cut's core! Leave no red welt as a token of the lie thy soul has spoken Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the handle of my door! Take thy proboscis from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! Quoth the Mosquito, “Nevermore.” And the Mosquito, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the lustrous chrome handle of my foreman's crew-cab door And its eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming And the sunlight o'er it streaming throws its shadow on the floor And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted – nevermore