It’s a still life water color
Of a now late afternoon
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
The borders of our lives
And you read your Emily Dickinson
And I my Robert Frost
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we’ve lost
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm
Couplets out of rhyme
In syncopated time
And the dangled conversation
And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives
Yes, we speak of things that matter
With words that must be said
«Can analysis be worthwhile?»
«Is the church really dead?»
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow
I cannot feel your hand
You’re a stranger now unto me Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
That are the borders of our lives
Possibly the most sarcastic song of the Sixties. Two college study buddies pushing back the borders, Intimidated by exposure to the Giants of literature and poetry. "You can hear the ocean roar." It could not have mattered so much had they not tried so hard. Love youth for climbing those craggy cliffs. The world is in good hands, always.
I thought of this song once when I was thinking about a girlfriend. I thought it was a bad sign, but sometimes we persist in things. The song told the truth. Sometimes we do not want to hear the truth.
I remember Peggy Fleming used Dangling Conversation as the theme for her skating routine on a televised ice competition. It was the perfect example of poetry in motion! As for the song, a critique on how many of us are preoccupied with matters superficial and unimportant in the grander scheme of things.