Flowers on the Weekend 

©1975 Andrew Calhoun, recorded on Where Blue Meets Blue. 

The voices of the dead flew back and forth across the face of the wind 
The castle door flew open, we could see a fire burning within 
Into the courtyard sprang a maniac, he said "I've waited long enough, God knows" 
But he was no pagan sinner, by the time he burned to ashes he was froze 

Face up, face down, across the street and through the town 
Gone to get the goods, to get laid open in the woods 
I'm going up the mountain to rub faces with the sky 
Sunshine slashed across the lawn, I'll be going I'll be gone 
Before we have the sense to say goodbye 

And I'm sorry, I'm sorry, for all of my sins 
I'm sorry for standing in the way of the wind 
Oh, help me, oh help me, in no special way 
I've got nothing to show, I've got nothing to say 

"What a beautiful wound," said the woman in green, 
I was on edge, she was in between 
She was trying to kill me, with the heel of her shoe 
But I'm a competent driver, with oysters to chew 

Cockles and mussles, down by the seashore 
Naked faced liars and bottled up whores 
And peacocks for dinner, and lice for dessert 
Don't try and save time or you'll only get hurt 

Like a priest in a mask, like a monster jerking off 
I feel like a diamond, like Raskolnikov 
He was a hero and I was a louse 
The crooks left the jewelry but ripped off the house 

I'm close to genius, close to a storm 
Closer to God than I am to a worm 
With his hand in my food, his feet in my hair 
I'm diving for pearls and I'm begging for air 

I'm begging for love, and for quiet and rest 
With my face in my wallet and my fist in your chest 
The magnets are moving from Asia to Greece 
I'm begging for love and I'm fighting for peace
 
They're putting on a play in the castle today 
The hero is a villain and the villain is clay 
Have a sprig of parsley, throw the heroin away 
Have a sprig of parsley, throw the heroin away 

Market on cabbage, market on stocks 
Market on tourist traps, market on clocks 
Stabbed to death on Halloween, Jesus was a Jew 
The cross is spitting poison, getting closer to you 

Flowers on the weekend, bluegrass in between 
Sharpen up your axes, make 'em cry, make 'em scream 
We'll chop down the castle walls and leave 'em in the moat 
With a song of heaven just a-rippin' out our throats 

And you don't have to say nothing, I know you by heart 
I been pushed, I been pulled, like a loose shopping cart 
Ha ha and ho ho, the freeloader's called time 
Come and confess, let us laugh at your crime

And I'm sorry, I'm sorry, for all of my sins  
I'm sorry for standing in the way of the wind  
Oh, help me, oh help me, in no special way  
I've got nothing to show, I've got nothing to say