One Crowded Hour (Henderson Taylor)

Now should you expect to see something that you hadn't seen In somebody you'd known since you were sixteen; if love is a bolt from the blue, then what is that bolt but a glorified screw? and that doesn't hold nothing together Far from these nonsense bars and their nowhere music it's making me sick And I know it's making you sick There's nothing there, it's like eating air It's like drinking gin with nothing else in And that doesn't hold me together. But for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin And I know you like your boys to take their medicine From the bowl with a silver spoon Who run away with the dish and scale the fish by the silvery light of the moon Who were taught from the womb to believe till the tomb That as far as their bleeding eyes see Is a pleasure pen, meant for them, builded and rent for them Not for the likes of me Not for the like of you and me And for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin Oh but the green-eyed harpy of the salt land She takes into hers my hand She says, "Boy I know you're lying Oh but then, so am I," And to this I said "Oh well." Well put me in a cage full of lions, I learned to speak lion In fact I know the language well I picked it up while I was versing myself in the languages they speak in hell That night, the silence gave birth to a baby They took it away to her silent dismay And they raised it to be a lady Now she can't keep her mouth shut And for one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room And I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom I thought I had found my golden September in the middle of that purple June But one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin For one crowded hour, you were the only one in the room Well I played a few songs for those bumps in the night In fact I played this very tune You said, "What is this six-stringed instrument but an adolescent loom?" And one crowded hour would lead to my wreck and ruin.