Destroyer: Painter In Your Pocket

And I'm reminded
Of the time that I was blinded
By the sun
It was a welcome change
From the sight of you hanging
Like a willow
Off the arm of yet another visionary
Prophetess East Van. punk

I didn't stand a chance
I couldn't stand at all
You looked ok with the others
You looked great on your own
It was 2002 and you couldn't be bothered
To say hello or goodbye
Or stand the test of time
You did, I just tried to
Separate an ocean from these tears we cried

Where did you get that line?
Where did you get that look?
Where did you get that penchant for destruction in the way you talk?
Where did you get that ride?
Where did you get that rocket?
Where did you get that painter in your pocket?

Hey, there's Christine
And there's where she could've been
The summer season was cheap
Birds of prey stick together
And hey so do we, go

I didn't stand a chance
I couldn't stand at all
You looked ok with the others
You looked great by yourself
It was 2002 and you needed reminding to stay alive
And so did I, but at least I tried to
Fall upon that sword and never look back

Where did you get that line?
Where did you get that look?
Where did you get that penchant for destruction in the way you talk?
Where did you get that ride?
Where did you get that rocket?
Where did you get that painter in your pocket?

I didn't stand a chance
I didn't stand at all
You looked ok with the others

A Month Of Sundays - Opening

1

Forgive me my denomination and my town; I am a Christian minister, and an American. I write these pages at some point in the time of Richard Nixon's unravelling. Though the yielding is mine, the temptation belongs to others: my keepers have set before me a sheaf of blank sheets -- a month's worth, in their estimation. Sullying them is to be my sole therapy.

my tongue is the pen of a ready writer

-- PSALM 45

This principle of soul, universally and individually, is the principle of ambiguity.

-- PAUL TILLICH

Sale of the book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as "unsold or destroyed" and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

A Fawcett Columbine Book
Published by Ballantine Books

Copyright 1974, 1975 by John Updike

This edition is published by arrangement with Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincide3ntal.

An excerpt from this book originally appeared in Playboy magazine.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Destroyer : New Ways Of Living

Maybe I should have loved you.
Maybe I should have sworn
Not to be born
Of this wretched glove too soon,
But a dragon needs room
A dragon needs room
A dragon needs room
To run, run, run, run...

I was a desert in love with extremes.
You married well, a gentlewoman of means who
Kept the word "Destroyer" embroidered on her jeans, too

(La la la)

I wore skins. I didn't care who survived.
The band foretold trends from Spring of '85.
They're calling it "The New Decay"...
Hey, so am I.

(La la la)

Treacherous fop, don't be embarrassed
For looking good at your table on the terrace
That you call home. I'm sold
Paris, London, Rome's too old for you
And your kind
Explosions want to see what they can find:
New ways of living...

It's you and your kind:
The New Ways of Living

Savage Night At The Opera

Destroyer : If you can't see my mirrors

If you can't see my mirrors
I see you coming around, yeah
You're coming around

If you can't see my mirrors
I see you coming around, yeah
You're coming around now

Pissed-up Sunday morning
We'll miss you in the show
Pissed-up Sunday morning
We'll miss you when you go
Go gently through the floor
A dismal and meaningless sigh

Pissed-up Sunday morning
We'll miss you when you go
Pissed-up Sunday morning
I'd kiss you, but you know
It'd be gently through the door
A dismal and meaningless sigh

Home from your eleventh tour
Honorable discharge aboard the HMS Pinafore
Oh what fun, oh what more

If you can't see my mirrors
If you can't see my mirrors
If you can't see my mirrors
If you can't see my mirrors

Destroyer: European Oils

I went for you in military times and, then, I waited well into the 2300s.
I made my way through the Union Street design kids.
They were alright.
They were on fire.
They harbored an elementary desire to do good works.
I bought 'em all, I bought 'em all!
I made donations to The Plague, and The Fall and The Old Grey Mare in her stall!

Endangered Ape, a couple years in Solitary never really hurt anyone.
Distinguished colleagues, dead music-writers' brides - I apologize.
They were alright.
They were on fire.
They harbored an elementary desire to do good works.
I bought 'em all, I bought 'em all!
I made donations to The Plague, and The Fall and The Old Grey Mare in her stall.

I don't know, I guess I'm doing alright.
Tabitha takes another stab at becoming light.
She never wants to go.
Always want to stay illuminated.

Ride towards the dawn, Quicksilver on the side of nothing.
Never had a chance.
Never had to choose Your Blood versus Your Blues.

Destroyer: If you can't see my mirrors

If you can't see my mirrors
I see you coming around, yeah
You're coming around

If you can't see my mirrors
I see you coming around, yeah
You're coming around now

Pissed-up Sunday morning
We'll miss you in the show
Pissed-up Sunday morning
We'll miss you when you go
Go gently through the floor
A dismal and meaningless sigh

Pissed-up Sunday morning
We'll miss you when you go
Pissed-up Sunday morning
I'd kiss you, but you know
It'd be gently through the door
A dismal and meaningless sigh

Home from your eleventh tour
Honorable discharge aboard the HMS Pinafore
Oh what fun, oh what more

If you can't see my mirrors
If you can't see my mirrors
If you can't see my mirrors
If you can't see my mirrors

Destroyer : New Ways Of Living

Maybe I should have loved you.
Maybe I should have sworn
Not to be born
Of this wretched glove too soon,
But a dragon needs room
A dragon needs room
A dragon needs room
To run, run, run, run...

I was a desert in love with extremes.
You married well, a gentlewoman of means who
Kept the word "Destroyer" embroidered on her jeans, too

(La la la)

I wore skins. I didn't care who survived.
The band foretold trends from Spring of '85.
They're calling it "The New Decay"...
Hey, so am I.

(La la la)

Treacherous fop, don't be embarrassed
For looking good at your table on the terrace
That you call home. I'm sold
Paris, London, Rome's too old for you
And your kind
Explosions want to see what they can find:
New ways of living...

It's you and your kind:
The New Ways of Living

Agamemnon - V:775

And Righteousness is a shining in

the smoke of mean houses.

Her blessing is on the just man.

From high halls starred with gold by reeking hands

she turns back

with eyes that glance away to the simple in heart,

spurning the strength of gold

stamped false with flattery.

And all things she steers to fulfilment.

Frost - pg. 237

"... Yes, the man who keeps them is not allowed to think ... Woman is a destroyer, she's not capable of friendship ... They're made for marriage and children, the only moment they stop lying is when they're giving birth ... Women are for bedding, and nothing more. A woman has no sense of humor. She's the devil's tool, and she's responsible for the tragedy of humankind."

Destroyer : New Ways Of Living

Maybe I should have loved you.
Maybe I should have sworn
Not to be born
Of this wretched glove too soon,
But a dragon needs room
A dragon needs room
A dragon needs room
To run, run, run, run...

I was a desert in love with extremes.
You married well, a gentlewoman of means who
Kept the word "Destroyer" embroidered on her jeans, too

(La la la)

I wore skins. I didn't care who survived.
The band foretold trends from Spring of '85.
They're calling it "The New Decay"...
Hey, so am I.

(La la la)

Treacherous fop, don't be embarrassed
For looking good at your table on the terrace
That you call home. I'm sold
Paris, London, Rome's too old for you
And your kind
Explosions want to see what they can find:
New ways of living...

It's you and your kind:
The New Ways of Living

Destroyer: Notorious Lightning

Oh, Notorious Lightning! Yes, I had to ride you
And trash the crystal jets they kept in storage inside you!
I was told never to question it.
Now I'm facing twenty years for every night I tried to ingest the snow so lightly! (huh?)

You simply couldn't put down the Black Book.
You dreamt the dreams of the Self-Taught Man.
You warn the ladies not to be corrupted by their looks,
But your voice comes out soft and slanted!
And you're living off what government's granted you:
Amnesty from the true
Thing. Now, Sandra, slowly remove the ring and watch Notorious Lightning surround you.
Watch Notorious Lightning surround you.
Watch Notorious Lightning surround you.

I lay myself down to observe your gilded jeans hit the ground,
And have not grown from this worship.
I lay myself down to surrender,
Watch the trust funds gorge us again,
And have not grown from this worship.
So, Great Pretender, pull a face! Let's see the best 'forlorn you know!'
Just don't sing, "Barricades In The Morning" - it's been three days in a row
And it never comes off like you planned it!
Something once was delivered, then you banned it
But, oh, there is a key to this thing...
Notorious Lightning...

There is a monument.
There is a place within it that I have won.
And there is victory at sea.
And then there's the sun
Crashing down upon us
Faithful readership of the Old Warden. We beg -
"No not another ode to the Garden! You've let the Book of Appeals pile up!"
So, Child of the East, it's time
To shrug off the Beast and take a look at what you've done.
The half-breed jury agrees you're OK,
But what they never seem to say is that it's never
The defense's witness...
AND SOMEONE'S GOT TO FALL BEFORE SOMEONE GOES FREE!

Destroyer: Music Lovers

Feeling fine, but it must be the wine
Cause it's April 27th and my baby's still dying on me.
We stole a gondola to sea
And ditched the chaperones on jewel-encrusted roans who called us 'unprofessional.' Deep down they knew,
Oh that we were the Music Lovers!
People say - "They just didn't want it enough."
Here, the people say - "They just didn't want it enough."
Oh, but we were the Music Lovers!
People say - "They just didn't want it enough."
Hear the people say - "They just didn't want it enough."

The time of your lives has been had
And your wives have been bad!
And look, the private sector's not denied you for the last time.
They're saying - "Those grapes go rotten on the vine."
Oh, but once we were the Music Lovers!
People say - "They just didn't want it enough."
Here, the people say - "They just didn't want it enough."
Oh, but we were the Music Lovers!
People say - "They just didn't want it enough."
Hear the people say - "They just didn't want it enough."

Sister, the world cannot hold us...
Brother, you can go your own way...

Destroyer: Streethawk II

There ought to be a law,
there ought to be a railroad
to take me away, to take me away.
There ought to be a law,
an ocean of escape,
to take me away, to take me away.

There ought to be a law,
there ought to be a railroad
that takes you away, that takes you away.
There ought to be a law,
an order of restraint,
that takes you away, that takes you away.

I heard those symphonies come quick,
now that you are sick of breathing new life into the form.
Hey Streethawk, you've been spotted hanging out outside the storm.
Why don't you fly?

Destroyer: Farar, Straus and Grioux (Sea of Tears)

It was back amongst the living,
your smile was giving me a thrill.
Enough to come so close to closing the deal (the steal of a century...)
A century stolen from our hearts to a house on the hill.

But if that is what it takes,
if that is what it takes,
if that is what it takes
to be a stone, a stone's throw from your throne,
no man has ever hung from the rafters of a second home.
No man has ever hung from the rafters of a second home.

It's true,
I needed you more back when I was poor:
the wealthy dowager (the patroness), she guessed it
the answer wasn't "yes."
But her maxims were fine, the ethos that flew about her mind
like swallows in search of a
burned-down bell tower church.

But if that is what it takes,
if that is what it takes,
if that is what it takes
to be a stone, a stone's throw from your throne,
no man has ever hung at the temporary age of 24, both feet on the floor,
listening to the bonafide stasis of sound,
the eaves dripping yesterday's
ill-timed August rain,

if there is such a thing as ill-timed August rain...

Iliad - pg. 3

"Achilles, beloved of Zeus, you want me to tell you

About the rage of Lord Apollo, the Arch-Destroyer.

And I will tell you. But you have to promise me and swear

You will support me and protect me in word and deed.

I have a feeling I might offend a person of some authority

Among the Greeks, and you know how it is when a king

Is angry with an underling. He might swallow his temper

For a day, but he hold it in his heart until later

And it all comes out. Will you guarantee my security?"

The Aeneid - pg. 207

"Here is a service all your own

That you can do for me, Daughter of Night,

Here is way to help me, to make sure

My status and renown will not give way

Or be impaired, and that Aeneas' people

Cannot by marriage win Latinus over,

Laying siege to Italy. You can arm

Destroyer: Painter In Your Pocket

And I'm reminded of the time that I was blinded by the sun.
It was a welcome change from the sight of you hanging
like a willow off the arm of yet another visionary
prophetess east van punk.

Destroyer: Painter In Your Pocket

And I'm reminded of the time that I was blinded by the sun.
It was a welcome change from the sight of you hanging
like a willow off the arm of yet another visionary
prophetess east van punk.

Destroyer: Bay Of Pigs

Soon.
Soon.

Listen, I've been drinking
as our house lies in ruin.
I don't know what I'm doing
alone in the dark
at the park or at the pier,
watching ships disappear in the rain.

The world's just bones.
The world is black stones dressed up in the rain
with no place to go but home-
just like Nance.
On a night like this, why, she's pro-stars, pro-sky.

All lit up and sick of fighting
beneath the diseased lighting of the discotheque at night.
It don't mean a thing. It never means a thing.
It don't mean a thing. It never means a thing.
It's got that swing.

I've seen it all. I've seen it all.
Magnolia's a girl. Her heart's made of wood.
As apocalypses go, that's pretty good.
Sha-la-la, wouldn't you say?

Please remove your spurs.
Come to think of it, remove your antlers.
Haven't seen you for ages.
I still fly into rages at the mention of your name,
Christine White.

I think about you often, off in the desert,
laughing your head off in the Forest of the Night.
Say a prayer for the light.

So now I live well. I live in the mine.
I'm still slinging mud at the towers all the time.
I took a walk
and threw up in an English Garden.

I was born in the North, but my father's from the South.
Love is a political beast with jaws for a mouth. I don't care!
You're upset- and have every right to be.
Regretfully, you decline.
Every night was a waste of time.
Every night. Every night. Every night.

You were on the side of good.
I was inside of the sea's guts,
a crumbling beauty trapped in a river of ice.
A crumbling beauty trapped in Paradise,
oh yes, it was Paradise!

The tide comes in and the tide goes out again.
I suppose this is the kind of thing we see every day.
The tide comes in. The tide goes away.
Oh, the tide comes in. Yeah, the tide. Yes, the tide.

A ransom note written on the night sky above
reminds me what-in-particular about this wine I love.
Like a punctured beast, better-off dead,
compliments going to my head:
La-da-da, la-da-da!

And speaking of my mind (the Sunflower),
and speaking of a world turning sour on you,
I was twenty years old in 1992.
I was bathed in golden sunlight, alright?

I was ripped on dope. You were a ray of sunshine.
I was a hopeless romantic. You were swine.
You've got to spend money to make money.
You've got to stop calling me "honey".

Oh world! You fucking explosion that turns us around!
The searchlight slumps over, so sick of the night,
and the kids on the boats, busted in the shipyard
going down, down, down, down, down, down, down.

You traveled light (all night, every night),
to arrive at the conclusion
of the world's inutterable secret,
and you shut your mouth.

I've seen it all. I've seen it all. I've seen it all.

Free and easy. Gentle. Gentle.
The wind through the trees makes you mental for me.
Nancy, in a state of crisis, on a cloud.

Soon. Soon.