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Paul Simon
Paul Simon


Background information
Birth name Paul Frederic Simon
Born October 13, 1941
Origin Newark, New Jersey, United States
Genre(s) Rock
World music
Years active 1957—present
Label(s) Columbia Records
Associated acts Simon & Garfunkel
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  P  →  Paul Simon  →  Albums  →  Hearts & Bones

Paul Simon Album


Hearts & Bones (1983)
1983
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Maladies
Melodies
Allergies to dust and grain
Maladies
Remedies
Still these allergies remain
My hand can't touch a guitar string
My fingers just burn and ache
My head intercedes with my bodily needs
And my body won't give it a break
My heart can stand a disaster
My heart can take a disgrace
But my heart is allergic
To the women I love
And it's changing the shape of my face
Allergies
Allergies
Something's living on my skin
Doctor please
Doctor please
Open up it's me again
I go to a famous physician
I sleep in the local hotel
From what I can see of the people like me
We get better
But we never get well
So I ask myself this question
It's a question I often repeat
Where do allergies go
When it's after a show
And they want to get something to eat?
Allergies
Allergies
Something's living on my skin
Doctor please
Doctor please
Open up it's me again
Maladies
Melodies
Allergies to dust and grain
Maladies
Remedies
Still these allergies remain

. . .



One and one-half wandering Jews
Free to wander wherever they choose
Are travelling together
In the Sangre de Cristo
The Blood of Christ Mountains
Of New Mexico
On the last leg of the journey
They started a long time ago
The arc of a love affair
Rainbows in the high desert air
Mountain passes slipping into stones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Thinking back to the season before
Looking back through the cracks in the door
Two people were married
The act was outrageous
The bride was contagious
She burned like a bride
These events may have had some effect
On the man with the girl by his side
The arc of a love affair
His hands rolling down her hair
Love like lightning shaking till it moans
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
And whoa whoa whoa
She said why?
Why don't we drive through the night
And we'll wake up down in Mexico
Oh I
I don't know nothin' about nothin'
About Mexico
And tell me why
Why won't you love me
For who I am
Where I am
He said:
'Cause that's not the way the world is baby
This is how I love you, baby
This is how I love you, baby
One and one-half wandering Jews
Returned to their natural coasts
To resume old acquaintances
Step out occasionally
And speculate who had been damaged the most
Easy time will determine if these consolations
Will be their reward
The arc of a love affair
Waiting to be restored
You take two bodies and you twirl them into one
Their hearts and their bones
And they won't come undone
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones

. . .



I have a number in my head
Though I don't know why it's there
When numbers get serious
You see their shape everywhere
Dividing and multiplying
Exchanging with ease
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers are easy to please
Take my address
Take my phone
Call me if you can
Here's my address
Here's my phone
Please don't give it to some madman
Hey hey, whoa whoa
Complicated life
Numbers swirling thick and curious
You can cut them with a knife
You can cut them with a knife
Two times two is twenty-two
Four times four is forty-four
When numbers get serious
They leave a mark on your door
Urgent. Urgent.
A telephone is ringing in the hallways
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers will speak to us always
That is why a man with numbers
Can put your mind at ease
We've got numbers by the trillions
Here and overseas
Hey hey, whoa whoa
Look at the stink about Japan
All those numbers waiting patiently
Don't you understand?
Don't you understand?
So wrap me
Wrap me
Wrap me do
In the shelter of your arms
I am ever your volunteer
I won't do you any harm
I will love innumerably
You can count on my word
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers
Will always be heard
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers will always be heard
And after all is said and done
And the numbers all come home
The four rolls into three
The three turns into two
And the two becomes a
One

. . .



They say that the left side of the brain
Controls the right
They say that the right side
Has to work hard all night
Maybe I think too much for my own good
Some people say so
Other people say no no
The fact is
You don't think as much as you could
hmmm
I had a childhood that was mercifully brief
I grew up in a state of disbelief
I started to think too much
When I was twelve going on thirteen
Me and the girls from St. Augustine
Up in the mezzanine
Thinking about God
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Have you ever experienced a period of grace
When your brain just takes a seat behind your face
And the world begins The Elephant Dance
Everything's funny
Everyone's sunny
You take out your money
And walk down the road
That leads me to the girl I love
The girl I'm always thinking of
But maybe I think too much
And I ought to just hold her
Stop trying to mold her
Maybe blindfold her
And take her away
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much

. . .



If you want to write a song about the moon
Walk along the craters of the afternoon
When the shadows are deep
And the light is alien
And gravity leaps like a knife off the pavement
And you want to write a song about the moon
You want to write a spiritual tune
Then nah nah nah
Presto
Song about about the moon
If you want to write a song about the heart
Think about the moon before you start
Because the heart will howl
Like a dog in the moonlight
And the heart can explode
Like a pistol on a June night
So if you want to write a song about the heart
And its ever-longing for a counterpart
Write a song about the moon
The laughing boy
He laughed so hard
He fell down from his place
The laughing girl
She laughed so hard
The tears rolled down her face
Hey Songwriter
If you want to write a song about
A face
Think about a photograph
That you really can't remember
But you can't erase
Wash your hands in dreams and lightning
Cut off your hair
And whatever is frightening
If you want to write a song
About a face
If you want to write a song about
The human race
Write a song about the moon
If you want to write a song about the moon
You want to write a spiritual tune
THEN DO IT
Write a song about the moon

. . .



The smartest people in the world
Had gathered in Los Angeles
To analyze our love affair
And possibly unscramble us
And we sat among our photographs
Examined every one
And in the end we compromised
And met the morning sun
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
They say the left side of the brain
Dominates the right
And the right side has to labor
Through the long and speechless night
And in the night
My father came to me
And held me to his chest
He said there's not much more that you can do
Go on and get some rest
And I said yeah
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much
Maybe I think too much

. . .



She was beautiful as Southern skies
The night he met her
She was married to someone
He was doggedly determined that he would get her
He was old, he was young
From time to time he'd tip his heart
But each time she withdrew
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true
Well eventually the boy and the girl get married
Sure enough they have a son
And though they both were occupied
With the child she carried
Disagreements had begun
And in a while they fell apart
It wasn't hard to do
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true
Two disappointed believers
Two people playing the game
Negotiations and love songs
Are often mistaken for one and the same
Now the man and the woman
Remain in contact
Let us say it's for the child
With disagreements about the meaning
Of a marriage contract
Conversations hard and wild
But from time to time
He makes her laugh
She cooks a meal or two
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true
What is the point of this story
What information pertains
The thought that life could be better
Is woven indelibly
Into our hearts
And our brains

. . .


Words & music by Paul Simon

Rene and Georgette Magritte
With their dog after the war
Returned to their hotel suite
And they unlocked the door
Easily losing their evening clothes
They danced by the light of the moon
To the Penguins, the Moonglows
The Orioles, and The Five Satins
The deep forbidden music
They'd been longing for
Rene and Georgette Magritte
With their dog after the war

Rene and Georgette Magritte
With their dog after the war
Were strolling down Christopher Street
When they stopped in a men's store
With all of the mannequins dressed in the style
That brought tears to their immigrant eyes
Just like The Penguins, the Moonglows
The Orioles, and The Five Satins
The easy stream of laughter
Flowing through the air
Rene and Georgette Magritte
With their dog apres la guerre
Side by side
They fell asleep
Decades gliding by like Indians
Time is cheap
When they wake up they will find
All their personal belongings
Have intertwined
Oh Rene and Georgette Magritte
With their dog after the war
Were dining with the power elite
And they looked in their bedroom drawer
And what do you think
They have hidden away
In the cabinet cold of their hearts?
The Penguins, the Moonglows
The Orioles, and The Five Satins
For now and ever after
As it was before
Rene and Georgette Magritte
With their dog after the war

. . .


Words & music by Paul Simon 1983

Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Similarly made. Similarly sold
In a motorcade. Abandoned when they're old
Cars are cars all over the world

Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Engine in the front. Jack in the back
Wheels take the brunt. Pinion and a rack
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world

But people are strangers
They change with the curve
From time zone to time zone
As we can observe
They shut down their borders
And think they're immune
They stand on their differences
And shoot at the moon

But cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Drive 'em on the left. Drive 'em on the right
Susceptible to theft in the middle of the night
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world

I once had a car
That was more like a home
I lived in it, loved in it
Polished its chrome
If some of my homes
Had been more like my car
I probably wouldn't have
Travelled this far

Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world

. . .


Words & music by Paul Simon

I was reading a magazine
And thinking of a rock and roll song
The year was nineteen fiftyfour
And I hadn't been playing that long
When a man came on the radio
And this is what he said
He said I hate to break it to his fans
But Johnny Ace is dead, yeah, yeah, yeah

Well, I really wasn't
Such a Johnny Ace fan
But I felt bad all the same
So I sent away for his photograph
And I waited till it came
It came all the way from Texas
With a sad and simple face
And they signed it on the bottom
From the Late Great Johnny Ace, yeah, yeah, yeah

It was the year of The Beatles
It was the year of The Stones
It was nineteen sixtyfour
I was living in London
With the girl from the summer be-fore

It was the year of The Beatles
It was the year of The Stones
A year after J.F.K.
We were staying up all night
And giving the days away
And the music was flowing amazing
And blowing my way

On a cold December evening
I was walking through the Christmas tide
When a stranger came up and asked me
If I'd heard John Lennon had died
And the two of us went to this bar
And we stayed to close the place
And every song we played
Was for The Late Great Johnny Ace, yeah, yeah, yeah

. . .


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