Old Jerusalem Her Scarf
She wears a piece of cloth around her neck to protect her from the cold
And we both smile as we identify the signs of our mutual growing old
It lets us gradually grin at the thought of our past
And nod our heads assenting that, yeah, all things do pass
But I firmly deny still that all things should die
Doubtless truths to the others have no place in our lives
You then lift your arms, outstretched like you do
Your scarf is now a banner, not afraid of the flu
Or of any disease on this right side of hell
“As long as there’s love or someone’s wishing you well
You can let all the rivers flow, stop worrying about stuff
But it’s not what we’re doing and no, this ain’t enough, now
You can talk all you want to, explain things as you do
But I’m no fool and I see you need someone new
And it may not surprise you I need something myself
A love, a disease, someone wishing me well
Denying it all dies is a belief that you sell
To the ladies you find on the wrong side of hell”
Suddenly a void fills the air in the realm of your words
Perception is tricky but we’re on tricky floors now
Your scarf is a banner for those dispossessed
And you cleansed my mean world of my own self-righteousness
