New in Retrospect

Well, two weeks a year or three weeks a year
You go to Maine or you go here or you go there and have vacation
And then you say well, back to the slave pen
Back to the slave pen, back to the whip
Back to the tyranny of doing things
Which in themselves are really not worth my doing
Now I enjoy cutting this, this is
This is waste
This rejected peabrush is waste
I've been cutting this up for an hour this morning
I had a thoroughly good time doing this
I would rather do this than play tennis
Or golf, or anything that you can mention
And I certainly would rather do this than watch television
Or listen to neighboring gossip about nothing in particular

Now we're back in a worse version of what we rehearsed
And I think it's a lovely style
Won't you talk to me a little about that symbol
That we saw in the meanwhile

And Vermont's got a new kind of point of view
And I think this shit won't do again
It's the best thing we got but the system is shot
And I don't think we can upend it

And I said into the night: "Where has Scott Nearing gone?"
Standing pondside, high, in Gehenna where the winters are long
This is crouching by the doorway letting cold air in
We are living in the Latter Days, growing thin
And it's all coming back to that night, bright on the lawn

And I've really got a feeling that everything's reeling back
And Faith's got her lighter out
And Ishmael and Isaac aren't quite realizing
That there's nothing else to fight about

It's a nasty era to try and be a pair of
Twins in a unique way
But Theo and Miles are coming in style
It doesn't matter what they say

And I said into the night: "Where has Scott Nearing gone?"
Standing pondside, high, in Gehenna where the winters are long
This is crouching by the doorway letting cold air in
We are living in the Latter Days, growing thin
And it's all coming back to that night, bright on the lawn

And this is all just feelings
Coming from the ceiling
Of the brain like it always does
There's no more truth here
But Naomi and Ruth
Are knocking on the door of love

And I said into the night: "Where has Scott Nearing gone?"
Standing pondside, high, in Gehenna where the winters are long
This is crouching by the doorway letting cold air in
We are living in the Latter Days, growing thin
And it's all coming back to that night, bright on the lawn

There you go now, baby
Baby baby baby baby ba- oh
Go do your thing
Go do your thing
Go do your thing
Go into the woods and do your thing