I’m totally aware that I’m way too old to be posting lyrics in my blog, but I’m gonna do it anyway. This is one of those “it hit a chord with me” kind of songs.
No Regrets by Aesop Rock
Lucy was seven and wore a head of blue barrettes.
City born, into this world with no knowledge and no regrets.
Had a piece of yellow chalk with which she’d draw upon the street.
The many faces of the various locals that she would meet.
There was Joshua, age 10.
Bully of the block
Who always took her milk money at the morning bus stop.
There was Mrs. Crabtree, and her poodle.
She always gave a wave and holler on her weekly trip down to the bingo parlor.
And she drew:
Men, women, kids, sunsets, clouds.
And she drew:
Skyscrapers, fruit stands, cities, towns.
Always said hello to passers-by.
They’d ask her why she passed her time
Attachin lines to concrete.
But she would only smile
Now all the other children living in or near her building
Ran around like tyrants, soaking up the open fire hydrants.
They would say,
“Hey little Lucy, wanna come jump double dutch?”
Lucy would pause, look, grin and say
“I’m busy, thank you much”
Well, well, one year passed
And believe it or not
She covered every last inch of the entire sidewalk,
And she stopped-
“Lucy, after all this, you’re just giving in today??”
She said:
“I’m not giving in, I’m finished,” and walked away
1 2 3
That’s the speed of the seed
A B C
That’s the speed of the need
You can dream a little dream
Or you can live a little dream
I’d rather live it
Cuz dreamers always chase
But never get it
Lucy was 37, and introverted somewhat.
Basement apartment in the same building she grew up in.
She traded in her blue barettes for long locks held up with a clip.
Traded in her yellow chalk for charcoal sticks.
And she drew:
Little Bobby who would come to sweep the porch.
And she drew:
The mailman, delivered everyday at 4.
Lucy had very little contact with the folks outside her cubicle day,
But she found it suitable, and she liked it that way.
She had a man now: Rico, similar, hermit.
They would only see each other once or twice a week on purpose.
They appreciated space, and Rico was an artist too,
So they’d connect on saturdays to share the pictures that they drew.
Now every month or so, she’d get a knock upon the front door.
Just one of the neighbors,
Actin’ nice, although she was a strange girl, they would
Say, “Lucy, wanna join me for some lunch??”
Lucy would smile and say “I’m busy, thank you much”
And they would make a weird face the second the door shut.
And run and tell their friends how truly crazy Lucy was.
And Lucy knew what people thought, but didn’t care.
Cuz while they spread their rumors through the street,
She’d paint another masterpiece.
Lucy was 87, upon her death bed,
At the senior home, where she had previously checked in.
Traded in the locks and clips for a head rest.
Traded in the charcoal sticks for arthritis, it had to happen.
And she drew no more, just sat and watched the dawn.
Had a television in the room that she’d never turned on.
Lucy pinned up a life worth’s of pictures on the wall,
And sat and smiled, looked each one over, just to laugh at it all.
Now Rico, he had passed, ’bout 5 years back,
So the visiting hours pulled in a big flock o’ nothin’.
She’d never spoken once throughout the spanning of her life
Until the day she leaned forward, grinned and pulled the nurse aside.
And she said:
“Look, I’ve never had a dream in my life
Because a dream is what you wanna do, but still haven’t pursued.
I knew what I wanted and did it till it was done
So I’ve been the dream that I wanted to be since day one!”
Well!
The nurse jumped back,
She’d never heard Lucy even talk,
‘Specially words like that.
She walked over to the door, and pulled it closed behind.
Then Lucy blew a kiss to each one of her pictures,
And she died.
Goodnight Moon.
Dream On.
