Mary Chapin Carpenter
Ideas Are Like Stars

Today Joseph is sitting alone,
With occassional nods to the waitress.
She tops off his cup while she's snapping her gum,
Making her rounds on the lunch shift.
And counting out coins, he leaves them arranged,
In neat lines and circles and arcs.
She just stares at the tip that spells out her name,
Ideas are like stars.

And yesterday pedalling down 4th avenue,
Between the stalls and the bookshops.
The sepia tones of a lost afternoon,
Cradled a curio storefront.
And inside the air was thick with the past,
As the dust settled onto his heart.
And here for a moment is every place in the world,
And ideas are like stars.

They fall from the sky, they run round your head,
They litter your sleep as they beckon,
They'd teach you to fly without wires or thread,
They promise, if only you'd let them.

For the language of longing never had words,
So how did you speak from your heart?
Yet here is a box that swears it has heard that,
Ideas are like stars.

Tonight Joseph stood out in the yard,
As Debussy played from the kitchen,
His celestial companions 'til morning's first light,
Shone overhead and he listened.
And who was that shadow there by the gate?
Who was that there standing guard?
It was only loneliness and lonliness waits,
And ideas are like stars,
Ideas are like stars.


Mirror lyrics:

Ideas are like stars.
And ideas are like stars,
It was only loneliness and lonliness waits,
Who was that there standing guard?
And who was that shadow there by the gate?
Shone overhead and he listened.
His celestial companions 'til morning's first light,
As Debussy played from the kitchen,
Tonight Joseph stood out in the yard,

Ideas are like stars.
Yet here is a box that swears it has heard that,
So how did you speak from your heart?
For the language of longing never had words,

They promise, if only you'd let them.
They'd teach you to fly without wires or thread,
They litter your sleep as they beckon,
They fall from the sky, they run round your head,

And ideas are like stars.
And here for a moment is every place in the world,
As the dust settled onto his heart.
And inside the air was thick with the past,
Cradled a curio storefront.
The sepia tones of a lost afternoon,
Between the stalls and the bookshops.
And yesterday pedalling down 4th avenue,

Ideas are like stars.
She just stares at the tip that spells out her name,
In neat lines and circles and arcs.
And counting out coins, he leaves them arranged,
Making her rounds on the lunch shift.
She tops off his cup while she's snapping her gum,
With occassional nods to the waitress.
Today Joseph is sitting alone,


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