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Versurile Laurie Anderson - The Geographic North Pole
Versuri The Geographic North Pole
The summer of 1974 was brutally hot in New York
and I kept thinking about how nice and icy it must
be at the North Pole. And then I though, âWait a
second, why not go?â You know, like in cartoons
where they hang going to the North Pole on their
door knobs and they just take off.
So I spent a couple of weeks preparing for the
trip, getting a hatchet, a huge backpack, maps,
knives, sleeping bags, lures and a three month
supply of Banic, a versatile high-protein paste
that can be made into flat bread, biscuits or
cereal.
Now I had decided to hitch hike and one day I
just walked out onto Austin Street, weighing down
seventy pounds of gear, and stuck out my thumb.
â Going North? I asked the driver as I
struggled into a station wagon.
After I got out of New York, most of the rides
were trucks until I reached the Hudson Bay and
began to hitch in small male planes. The pilots
were usually guys whoâd gone to Canada to avoid
the draft or else embittered Vietnam vets who
never wanted to go home again. Either way they
always wanted to show off a few of their stunts.
Weâd go swooping along the rivers doing loop do
loops and baby ###080152. And theyâd drop me off
at an airstrip. âThereâll be another plane by
here couple of weeks; see ya; good luck.â
I never did make it all the way to the geographic
pole; it turned out to be a restricted area and no
one was allowed to fly in or even over it. I did
get within a few miles of the magnetic pole
though. So it wasnât really that disappointing.
I entertained myself in the evenings, cooking or
smoking, and watching the blazing light of the
huge Canadian sunsets as they turned the lake into
fire.
Later I lay on by back, looking up at the
Northern lights and imagining thereâd been a
nuclear holocaust and that I was the only human
being left in all of North America and what would
I do then.
And then, when these lights went out, I stretched
out on the ground, watching the stars as they
turned around and their enormous silent ###080318.
I finally decided to turn back because of my
hatchet. Iâd been chopping some wood and the
hatchet flew out of my hand on the upswing. And I
did what you should never do when this happens: I
looked up to see where it had gone and it came
down â fffooo â just missing my head and I
thought, âMy God! I could be working around here
with a hatchet embedded in my skull and Iâm ten
miles from the airstrip. And nobody in the whole
world knows where I am.â
Daddy Daddy, it was just like you said
Now that the living outnumber the dead
Where I come from itâs a long thin thread
Across an ocean. Down a river of red
Now that the living outnumber the dead
Speak my language
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