Gord Downie

Oct 24, 8pm. Nathan Phillips Square.
In support of the Gord Downie & Chanie Wenjack Fund.

The Stranger

I am a stranger…You can't see me
I am a stranger…Do you know what I mean?

I navigate the mud…I walk above the path
Jumpin' to the right…Then I jump to the left

On a secret path
The one that nobody knows
And I'm moving fast
On the path nobody knows

And what I'm feelin'…Is anyone's guess
What is in my head…And what's in my chest
I'm not gonna stop…I'm just catching my breath
They're not gonna stop…Please just let me catch my breath

I am the stranger…You can't see me
I am the stranger…Do you know what I mean?

That is not my dad…My dad is not a wild man
Doesn't even drink…My dad, he's not a wild man

On a secret path
The one that nobody knows
And I'm moving fast
On the path that nobody knows

I am the stranger…
I am the stranger…
I am the stranger…
I am the stranger…

Grace, too

He said I'm fabulously rich
C'mon just let's go
She kinda bit her lip
Geez, I don't know
But I can guarantee
There'll be no knock on the door
I'm total pro
That's what I'm here for

I come from downtown
Born ready for you
Armed with will and determination
And grace, too

The secret rules of engagement
Are hard to endorse
When the appearance of conflict
Meets the appearance of force
But I can guarantee
There'll be no knock on the door
I'm total pro
That's what I'm here for

I come from downtown
Born ready for you
Armed with skill and it's frustration
And grace, too

Poets

Spring starts when a heartbeat's pounding
When the birds can be heard
Above the reckoning carts doing some final accounting
Lava flowing in Superfarmer’s direction
He's been getting reprieve from the heat
In the frozen food section, yeah

Don't tell me what the poets are doing
Don't tell me that they're talking tough
Don't tell me that they're anti-social
Somehow not anti-social enough, that’s right

And porn speaks to it's splintered legions
To the pink amid the withered cornstalks
In them winter regions
While aiming at the archetypal father
He said with such broad and tentative swipes
Why do you even bother?

Don't tell me what the poets are doing
Those Himalayas of the mind
Don't tell me what the poet's been doing
In the long grasses over time

Don't tell me what the poets are doing
On the street and the epitome of vague
Don't tell me how the universe is altered
When you find out how he gets paid, all right

If there's nothing more that you need now
The lawn cut by bare breasted women
Beach bleached towels within reach for the women
Got to make it, that'll make it by swimming

New Orleans Is Sinking

Bourbon blues on the street, loose and complete
Under skies all smoky blue-green
I can't forsake a Dixie dead-shake
So we danced the sidewalk clean

My memory is muddy, what's this river that I'm in?
New Orleans is sinking man, and I don't wanna swim

Colonel Tom, what's wrong? What's going on?
Can't tie yourself up for a deal
He said "Hey north you're south shut your big mouth,
You gotta do what you feel is real"
Ain't got no picture postcards, ain't got no souvenirs
My baby, she don't know me when I'm thinking 'bout those years

Pale as a light bulb hanging on a wire
Sucking up to someone just to stoke the fire
Picking out the highlights of the scenery
Saw a little cloud that looked a little like me

I have my hands in the river
My feet back up on the banks
Looked up to the Lord above
And said, hey man thanks
Sometimes I feel so good I gotta scream
She said Gordie, baby, I know exactly what you mean
She said, she said, I swear to God she said

My memory is muddy, what's this river that I'm in?
New Orleans is sinking man and I don't wanna swim
Swim!

The Last Of The Unplucked Gems

Violins and tambourines
This is what we think they mean
It's hard to say, it's sad but true
I'm kinda dumb and so are you

When the mystique varies thus
Send a man to bury us
It's hard to say, it's sad but true
I'm kinda dumb and so are you

The last of the unplucked gems
The last of the unplucked gems
The last of the unplucked gems

Violins and tambourines
This is what we think they mean
It's hard to say, it's sad but true
I'm kinda dumb and so are you

The last of the unplucked gems
The last of the unplucked gems
The last of the unplucked gems

Wheat Kings

Sundown in the Paris of the prairies
Wheat kings have all their treasures buried
And all you hear are the rusty breezes
Pushing around the weather vane Jesus

In his Zippo lighter he sees the killer's face
Maybe it's someone standing in a killer's place
Twenty years for nothing, well that's nothing new, besides
No one's interested in something you didn't do

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what the morning brings

There's a dream he dreams
Where the high school is dead & stark
It's a museum and we're all locked up in it after dark
Where the walls are lined all yellow, grey and sinister
Hung with pictures of our parents' prime ministers

Wheat kings and pretty things
Wait and see what tomorrow brings

Late breaking story on the CBC
A nation whispers, "We always knew that he'd go free"
They add, "You can't be fond of living in he past
'Cause if you are then there's no way that you're gonna last"

Wheat kings and pretty things
Let's just see what tomorrow brings
Wheat kings and pretty things
Oh, that's what tomorrow brings

Courage

Watch the band…Through a bunch of dancers
Quickly…Follow the unknown
With something…More familiar
Quickly…Something familiar

Courage, my word
It didn't come it doesn't matter

Sleepwalk…So fast asleep…
In a motel…That has the lay of home
And piss on…All of your background
And piss on…All your surroundings

Courage, my word…It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, your word…It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word…It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage…it couldn't come at a worse time

No simple…Explanation
For anything important...Any of us do
And yeah the human…Tragedy
Consists in…The necessity
Of living with…The consequences
Under pressure…Under pressure

Courage, my word…It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, your word…It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word…It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage…it couldn't come at a worse time

It couldn't come at a worse time…
It couldn't come at a worse time…
It couldn't come at a worse time…
It couldn't come at a worse time...

Bobcaygeon

I left your house this morning…'Bout a quarter after nine
Could’a been the Willie Nelson…Could’a been the wine

When I left your house this morning
It was a little after nine
It was in Bobcaygeon
I saw the constellations
Reveal themselves one star at time

Drove back to town this morning…With working on my mind
I thought of maybe quittin'…Thought of leavin' it behind

Went back to bed this morning
And as I'm pullin' down the blind
Yeah, the sky was dull
And hypothetical
And fallin' one cloud at a time

That night in Toronto…With its checkerboard floors
Riding on horseback…And keeping order restored
'Til The Men They Couldn't Hang
Stepped to the mic and sang
And their voices rang with that Aryan twang

Got to your house this morning…Just a little after nine
In the middle of that riot…Couldn't get you off my mind

So, I'm at your house this morning
Just a little after nine
It was in Bobcaygeon
Where I saw the constellations
Reveal themselves one star at time

Ahead By A Century

First thing we'd climb a tree…And maybe then we'd talk
Or sit silently…And listen to our thoughts
With illusions of someday…Cast in a golden light
No dress rehearsal…This is our life

And that's where the hornet stung me
And I had a feverish dream
With revenge and doubt
Tonight, we smoke them out

You are ahead by a century
You are ahead by a century
You are ahead by a century

Stare in the morning shroud…And then the day began
I tilted your cloud…You tilted my hand
Rain falls in real time…Rain fell through the night
No dress rehearsal …This is our life

But that's when the hornet stung me
And I had a serious dream
With revenge and doubt
Tonight, we smoked them out

You are ahead by a century
You are ahead by a century
You are ahead by a century

You are ahead by a century
You are ahead by a century
You are ahead by a century

And disappointing you’s gettin' me down

Gift Shop

The beautiful lull…The dangerous tug
We get to feel small…From high up above
And after a glimpse…Over the top
The rest of the world…Becomes a gift shop

The pendulum swings…For the horse like a man
Out over the rim…It is ice cream to him
The beautiful lull…The dangerous tug
We get to feel small…But not out of place at all

We're forced to bed…But we're free to dream
All us human extras…All us herded beings
And after a glimpse…Over the top
The rest of the world…Becomes a gift shop

I don't know what to believe…Sometimes I even forget
And if it's a lie…Terrorists made me say it
The beautiful lull…The dangerous tug
We get to feel small…From high up above

From high up above…
From high up above…
From high up above…
From high up above…

Fiddler’s Green (adapted for Gord by Don Kerr)

October seventeen
For our country is a tragic day
Our son has gone alee
And that's where he will stay
Wind on the weathervane
Tearing all eyes sailor-mean
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddler's Green

His wild magnificent brain
We all know that it worked so good
But the timber tore apart
And the water gorged the wood
Can you hear our whispered prayer
For a man whose mast will always lean
The same wind that moves us here
Moves a boy through Fiddler's Green

Oh everything's changed
Oh everything's changed
Oh when you raised your voice

You know our very soul
There's nowhere that you haven’t been
You’ll never travel long alone
Well loved in Fiddler's Green
Balloons all filled with rain
As children's eyes turn sleepy-mean
And Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddler's Green (x3)
For you there in Fiddler's Green

Download Fiddler’s Green (adapted for Gord by Don Kerr) Lyrics