Debt to a Librarian

by J Braxton Wittenburg

Genre: Folk/Acoustic

Lyrics

Science delivered,
When the chore of living,
Extinguished the pleasure,
Of being born.

Making up meaning,
To make it to meetings.
We sat in a circle,
And stared at the floor.

Like plummeting graph trends,
And stock market crashes,
Investment in me,
Seemed a sure path to debt.

When, oh, she showed me,
The card catalogue,
The card catalogue.

And, oh, I told her,
“I need to know,
Why people are.”

She placed my finger,
On Dawkins and Darwin.
And, oh, she whispered,
“There’s not a God.
There’s not a God.”

Hopped on the ferry,
To Bainbridge,
And from there,
My roommate and I,
Drove along the coast.

New to that house,
Knowing no one else,
We sacrificed scenery,
For musings on life.

I said, “The history of me,
Will remain incomplete,
But my daily astonishment’s,
On the rise!”

When, oh, she showed me,
The card catalogue,
The card catalogue.

And, oh, I told her,
“I need to know,
Why people are.”

She placed my finger,
On Hawking and Mendel.
And, oh, she whispered,
“There’s not a God.
There’s not a God.”

Well, I knew just what she meant.
I’ve known since the third grade,
When I made a habit of it,
To make my feelings and facts the same.
They’ll never change!

When, oh, she showed me,
The card catalogue,
The card catalogue.

And, oh, I told her,
“I need to know,
Why people are.”

She placed my finger,
On Sagan and Diamond.
And, oh, she whispered,
“There’s not a God.
There’s not a God.”

Now, I’m in debt to a librarian.

September 2007

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