Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Macdougal Street Blues, artist - Jack Kerouac.
Date of issue: 12.01.2014
Song language: English
Macdougal Street Blues |
Summer of 1954, when he left me his whole apartment |
He went away with his girl someplace: |
Parade among Images |
Images Images Looking |
Looking — |
And everybody’s turning around |
& pointing — |
Nobody looks up |
And In |
Nor listens to Samantabhadra’s |
Unceasing Compassion |
No Sound Still |
S s s s t t |
Seethe |
Of Sea Blue Moon |
Holy X-Jack |
Miracle |
Night — |
Instead yank & yucker |
For pits & pops |
Look for crashes |
Pictures |
Squares |
Explosions |
Birth |
Death |
Legs |
I know, sweet hero |
Enlightenment has Come |
Rest in Still |
In the Sun Think |
Think Not |
Think no more Lines — |
Straw hat, hands a back |
Classed |
He exam in atein distinct |
Rome prints — |
Trees prurp |
And saw |
Because The Chessplayers Won’t End |
Still they sit |
Millions of hats |
In underwater foliage |
Over marble games |
The Greeks of Chess |
Plot the Pop |
Of Mate |
King Queen |
— I know their game |
Their elephant with the pillar |
With the pearl in it |
Their gory bishops |
And Vital Pawns — |
Their devout frontline |
Sacrificial pawn shops |
Their stately king |
Who is so tall |
Their Virgin Queens |
Pree ing to Knave |
The Night Knot |
— Their Bhagavad Gitas |
Of Ignorance |
Krishna’s advice |
Comma |
The game begins — |
Clip |
Jean-Louis |
Go home, Man |
Clip |
— So tho I am wise |
I have to wait like |
Anyotherfool |
Lets forget the strollers |
Forget the scene |
Lets close our eyes |
Let me instruct Thee |
Here is dark Milk |
Here is Sweet Mahameru |
Who will Coo |
To you Too |
As he did to me |
One night at three |
When I w k e i t |
P l e e |
Knelt to See |
Realit ee |
And I said |
'Wilt thou protect me |
For 'ver?' |
And he in his throatless |
Deep mother hole |
Replied ' H o m ' |
Here is the complete text: |
MACDOUGAL STREET BLUES |
In the Form of 3 Cantos |
CANTO UNO |
The goofy foolish |
Human parade |
Passing on Sunday |
Art streets |
Of Greenwich Village |
Pitiful drawings of |
Images on an |
Iron fence |
Ranged there |
By self believing |
Artists |
With no hair |
And black berets |
Showing green seas |
Eating at rock |
And Pleiades |
Of Time |
Pestiferating at moon squid |
Salt flat tip fly toe |
Tat sand traps |
With cigar smoking interesteds |
Puffing at the |
Stroll |
I mean sincerely |
Naive sailors buying prints |
Women with red banjos |
On their handbags |
And arts handicrafty |
Slow shuffling |
Art-ers of Washington Square |
Passing in what they think |
Is a happy June afternoon |
Good God the Sorrow |
They dont even listen to me when |
I try to tell them they will die |
They say «Of course I know |
I’ll die, Why shd you mention |
It now — Why should I worry |
About it — It ll happen |
It ll happen — Now |
I want a good time — |
Excuse me — |
It’s a beautiful happy June |
Afternoon I want to walk in — |
Why are you so tragic & gloomy? |
And in the corner at the |
Pony Stables |
On Sixth Ave & 4th |
Sits Bodhisattva Meditating |
In Hobo Rags |
Praying at Joe Gould’s chair |
For the Emancipation |
Of the shufflers passing by |
Immovable in Meditation |
He offers his hand & feet |
To the passers by |
And nobody believes |
That there’s nothing to believe in |
Listen to Me |
There is no sidewalk artshow |
No strollers are there |
No poem here, no June |
Afternoon of Oh |
But only Imagelessness |
Unrepresented on the iron fence |
Of bald artist |
With black berets |
Passing by |
One moment less than this |
Is future Nothingness Already |
The Chess men are silent, assembled |
Ready for funny war — |
Voices of Washington Square Blues |
Rise to my Bodhisattva Poem |
Window |
I will describe them: — |
Ey t k ey ee |
Sa la o s o |
F r u p t u r t |
Etc |
No need, no words to |
Describe |
The sound of ignorance — |
They are strolling to |
Their death |
Watching the Pictures of Hell |
Eating Ice Cream |
Of Ignorance |
On wood sticks |
That were once sincere |
In trees — |
But I can’t write, poetry |
Just prose |
I mean |
This is prose |
Not poetry |
But I want |
To be sincere |
CANTO DOS |
While overhead is the perfect blue |
Emptiness of the sky |
With its imaginary balloons |
Of false sight |
Flying around in it |
Like Tathagata Flying Saucers |
These poor ignorant things |
Mill on sidewalks |
Looking at pitiful pictures |
Of what they think |
Is reality |
And one |
A Negro with curls |
Even has a camera |
To photograph |
The pictures |
And Jelly Roll Man |
Pops his Billy Bell |
Good Humor for sale — |
W Somerset Maugham |
Is on my bed |
An ignorant storyteller |
Millionaire queer |
But Ezra Pound |
He crazy — |
As the perfect sky |
Beginninglessly pure |
Thinglessly already |
They pass in multiplicity |
Parade among Images |
Images Images Looking |
Looking — |
And everybody’s turning around |
& pointing — |
Nobody looks up |
And In |
Nor listens to Samantabhadra’s |
Unceasing Compassion |
No Sound Still |
S s s s t t |
Seethe |
Of Sea Blue Moon |
Holy X-Jack |
Miracle |
Night — |
Instead yank & yucker |
For pits & pops |
Look for crashes |
Pictures |
Squares |
Explosions |
Birth |
Death |
Legs |
I know, sweet hero |
Enlightenment has Come |
Rest in Still |
In the Sun Think |
Think Not |
Think no more Lines — |
Straw hat, hands a back |
Classed |
He exam in atein distinct |
Rome prints — |
Trees prurp |
And saw |
The Chessplayers Won’t End |
Still they sit |
Millions of hats |
In underwater foliage |
Over marble games |
The Greeks of Chess |
Plot the Pop |
Of Mate |
King Queen |
— I know their game |
Their elephant with the pillar |
With the pearl in it |
Their gory bishops |
And Vital Pawns — |
Their devout frontline |
Sacrificial pawn shops |
Their stately king |
Who is so tall |
Their Virgin Queens |
Pree ing to Knave |
The Night Knot |
— Their Bhagavad Gitas |
Of Ignorance |
Krishna’s advice |
Comma |
The game begins — |
But hidden Buddha |
Nowhere to be seen |
But everywhere |
In air atoms |
In balloon atoms |
In imaginary sight atoms |
In people atoms |
In people atoms |
Again |
In image atoms |
In me & you atoms |
In atom bone atoms |
Like the sky |
Already Waits |
For us eyes open to |
— Pawn fell |
Horse reared |
Mate Kiked Cattle |
And Boom! |
Cop |
Shot Bates — |
Cru put Two — |
Out — I cried — |
Pound Pomed — |
Jean-Louis |
Go home, Man |
I mean, — |
As solid as anything |
Is this reality of images |
In the imageless essence |
Neither of em 11 quit |
— So tho I am wise |
I have to wait like |
Anyotherfool |
CANTO TRES |
Lets forget the strollers |
Forget the scene |
Lets close our eyes |
Let me instruct Thee |
Here is dark Milk |
Here is Sweet Mahameru |
Who will Coo |
To you Too |
As he did to me |
One night at three |
When I w k e i t |
P l e e |
Knelt to See |
Realit ee |
And I said |
'Wilt thou protect me |
For 'ver?' |
And he in his throatless |
Deep mother hole |
Replied ' H o m ' |
(Pauvre Ange) |
Mahameru |
Tathagata of Mercy |
See |
He |
Now |
In dark escrow |
In the middleless dark |
Of eyelids' lash obliviso |
So |
Among rains of Transcendent |
Pity |
Abides since Ever |
Before Evermore ness |
Or thusness Imagined |
O Maha Meru |
O Mountain Sumeru |
O Mountain of Gold |
O Holy Gold |
O Room of Gold |
O Sweet peace |
Rememberance |
O Nava lit yuku |
Of sweet cactus |
Thorn of No Time |
— Ply me on ward |
Like boat |
Thru this Sea |
Safe to Shore |
Ulysses never Sore |
— Bless me Gerard |
Bless thee, Living |
I shall pray for all |
Sentient human |
& otherwise sentient |
Beings here & everywhere |
Now — |
No names |
Not even faces |
One Pity |
One Milk |
One Lovelight |
S a v e |