Fleetwood Mac, Rhiannon (Live '81)

Seeing as Jo can't stop watching this, it really does need to be posted. Stevie at her most mesmerizing.

Flavors of Entanglement

Renascence, Edna St. Vincent Millay

The rain, I said, is kind to come
And speak to me in my new home.
I would I were alive again
To kiss the fingers of the rain,
To drink into my eyes the shine
Of every slanting silver line,
To catch the freshened, fragrant breeze
From drenched and dripping apple-trees.
For soon the shower will be done,
And then the broad face of the sun
Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth
Until the world with answering mirth
Shakes joyously, and each round drop
Rolls, twinkling, from its grass-blade top.
How can I bear it; buried here,
While overhead the sky grows clear
And blue again after the storm?
O, multi-colored, multiform,
Beloved beauty over me,
That I shall never, never see
Again! Spring-silver, autumn-gold,
That I shall never more behold!
Sleeping your myriad magics through,
Close-sepulchred away from you!
O God, I cried, give me new birth,
And put me back upon the earth!
Upset each cloud’s gigantic gourd
And let the heavy rain, down-poured
In one big torrent, set me free,
Washing my grave away from me!

The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,—
No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away on either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God shine through.
But East and West will pinch the heart
That can not keep them pushed apart;
And he whose soul is flat—the sky
Will cave in on him by and by

Home

Now, I've always thought home was a feeling
...but what if I was wrong,
and it turns out that home is a person,
when I thought that home was a song?
What of the home that you've felt like
since the fourteen-year-old us was dawning,
and the home of waking up beside you,
your hand slipped into mine with 'good morning'?

Tell me home,
tell me love,
tell me something real,
tell me golden ages await bright.

See, I thought that love was a feeling,
but what if it turns out I'm wrong,
and love is a cocktail of chemicals,
when I thought that love was a song?
What if my love is a downpour,
to become sad sharp pain at your hands,
and what if the ocean's a puddle,
and beached by debris, not golden sands?

Tell me home,
tell me love,
tell me something real,
tell me golden ages await bright.

Tell me when,
tell me true,
tell me how you feel
about living towards face to face goodnights.

Words This World

Don't you see it baby, laid out like the blueprint of a city,
shines pure platinum in the rain.
How can you say maybe
to the charm of avenues I see so plain?
I could've sworn my sanity,
this mutuality I held so sure;
I would've signed my life away
on certainty I didn't love you more.

You don't regret it baby, no you don't,
we could forget it happened but we won't.
You don't regret it honey, not a thing;
who would've guessed the words this world would bring?

Don't you hold this promise, somewhere deeper
than the palm of your right hand?
Doesn't every premise in your spirit tell you
not to leave this land?
I think I see promises hide behind the
ambivalence of your words
sometimes, but then I never could ignore
the lawful weight of what I've heard.

You don't regret it baby, no you don't,
we could forget it happened but we won't.
You don't regret it honey, not a thing;
who would've guessed the words this world would bring?

My spirit aches with needing you,
I cannot take this silence,
tell me home.

Smiling Underneath, Ani DiFranco

I don't mind waiting in line no no

I don't mind if the bills pile up and the work is slow

I don't mind the gas or the groceries or the grind

as long as I'm with you I'm having a good time

I don't mind the stoner waiter or the poorly cooked food

I don't mind little miss kitty or her knuckle-head dude

I don't mind if every last person here is ugly and rude

as long as I'm with you I got a good attitude

as long as I'm with you

We could be stuck in traffic for over a week

with a car full of quintuplets who are cutting teeth

around my neck could be a flaming christmas wreath

and I'd be smiling under smiling underneath

I don't mind waking up early for a flight that's delayed

I don't mind our week's vacation was chilly and grey

I don't mind the traffic cops or the TSA

as long as I'm with you I'm having a good day

as long as I'm with you

I don't mind spilling my hot-sauce onto my white shirt

I don't mind the twinge in my leg in that knee that I hurt

I don't mind my gums peeling back or my hair getting thin

as long as I'm with you I win

as long as I'm with you

we could be stuck in traffic for over a week

with a car full of quintuplets who are all cutting teeth

and around my neck could be a flaming christmas wreath

and I'd be smiling under smiling under

smiling underneath.