pour la plus belle femme sur terre

because you were
and are
like a spark in the dark
a rope for the falling
a song for the deaf

because you were an ivory piano
in my coal hands
a bare naked soul in an overcrowded mall

because
when the fog disappears,
is just you i see

because when i am bound to sink
you are the only one near
this is for you,
the most beautiful woman on earth


because i’ve been a blind asshole
and you have cried for me
and you came looking for me
when nobody else did

because i think about you almost everyday
and i wish you did the same with me
because i know you do
because i hope you do

because i want you to know this
because i need you to know this
and feel the kisses i never gave you
and the love i never made to you
and the breakfast i did not cook you
and the films we haven’t seen together
and the places we haven’t visited
and the book i never gave you
and the words i never said to you
and the poems i never wrote

because…
you are the most beautiful woman on earth

because whenever i think about you
you warm up my chest
because i gave you almost nothing
and you give it all
because…

because i miss you so much right now
while i see the planes
and the roads, and the cars,
and the seas, and the oceans,
and the trees, and the time,
that i should cross to see you
that i should burn to get to you

you…
the most beautiful woman on earth

and i recall the empty streets of new york at dawn
and the street lamps in rome
and the ruins in my hometown
and warsaw
and the danube
and the bridges
and the songs

because…
because you are home
still
you are
even though
we almost have not met
even though you are so far away
and i am still lost

my dear
my love
because i miss you
and i wish we were in the same bed
you loving me as nobody else has
because you are
the most beautiful woman on earth

Whitehead's Doubt / Brown Leather Number 40

you've got a beautiful smile,
and a red plastic diamond ring that cuts like a knife,
a big warm comfortable bed
and an American car that runs about a mile and then it drops dead
but you ain't got everything right in your head, babe
you ain't got everything right in your head

you have a screaming mother and a house in the fields
a bob dylan record and a dark cat that yields
but you ain't got everything right in your head, babe
you ain't got everything right in your head

you've got your shiny teeth
and a cell phone that talks
and all the bankers they a-kneel
kneel down at your feet the moment you walk
but you ain't got everything right in your head, babe
you ain't got everything right in your head

you have a funny ex boyfriend and some auburn hair
you like to paint me with my fist in his mouth like a Russian bear
all those flowers are dry, even though so hard you try
you say you love me but you know sometimes you lie
but you ain't got everything right in your head
but you ain't got everything right in your head, babe

you got yellow daffodils and a little horse
and your father has servants that have never been told
the difference between right and gold
you are a sweet kid and a merchant of air
honey, what’s the difference between poetry and a chair?
you ain't got everything right in your head, babe
you ain't got everything right in your head

You and your sweet paper like eyes and your almost pink skin
and your psychiatrists, and the Stalinist so thin
you know he loves to point his finger at your little girl lies
Oh Lord, I can’t wait until he dies
you ain't got everything right in your head, babe
you ain't got everything right in your head

you got a thousand chimpanzees and a Siamese snake that sings like Skip James
if you haven’t seen him, he will set your money to flames
you have your papers and your magazines
and the sweet taste of those pills made of naphthalene
but you baby, you, ain't got everything right in your head
you ain't got everything right in your head


you have your skinny notes,
and your mathematics quotes, and a shaman that talks,
and your pale excuses and your expensive coat
but you ain't got everything right in your head, babe
you already know you ain't got everything right in your head

you cry when you wake up, you cry out in style
good lord you even cry when you smile
it’s about to end this babe or you are gonna end up dry
you ain't got everything right in your head, babe
you know you ain't got everything right in your head

you have your fix, you have your prick
you have your big shot, the slave you bought
you decide whether you want your fingers to be sticky or not
oh, Do I have to tell you the difference between a lover and a clock?
because babe, you ain't got everything right in your head