A Verbal Fig Leaf · Track 3 · middle
Purse
Purse (Chaucer) — What you keep valuables in. Still the tenderest one on the whole list. VOLUME: I. THE COURT, 1350–1599. THE DODGE THIS ERA: The dodge is REVERENCE. You do not say it because it is holy, or because He is listening, or because she is a lady. Courtly, careful, and only just getting away with it. Sing the AVOIDANCE, never the anatomy.
No audio yet — generation pending.
Lyrics
[Intro] [Verse 1] The hall is heavy with the smoke of wood. The Bishop watches from his carved oak chair. I kneel before the dais where she stood, And choose the only noun that I can bear. A sudden heat behind the eyes, a stutter in the jaw, Before my mouth corrects the course and draws the tempo slow. I look upon her velvet, resting there. [Pre-Chorus] For what is sacred must be cloaked in grace, Lest heavy eyes corrupt a private space. [Chorus] O heavy purse, drawn tightly by the cord, So softly nestled in your lady’s gown. Be gracious to the beggar you reward, And let your golden reputation down. No other wealth in England draws me near, I sing of velvet, for I dare not name the thing it covers there. [Verse 2] It is a tender vessel, stitched in red, With two fine ribbons keeping it secure. Not for a minted Edward groat, I pledge, Would I unlace it while the room is pure. The Lord expects a poem of finance, A witty plea of debt and circumstance. I bow my head and keep the reading sure. [Pre-Chorus] For what is sacred must be cloaked in grace, A single word could ruin this entire place. [Chorus] O heavy purse, drawn tightly by the cord, So softly nestled in your lady’s gown. Be gracious to the beggar you reward, And let your golden reputation down. No other wealth in England draws me near, I sing of velvet, for I dare not name the thing it covers there. [Bridge] They hear a bankrupt poet seeking gold, She hears the silence underneath the phrase. The substitution rests within her hold, A holy relic for a quiet space. If I spoke plainly, I would hang by noon, But reverence is a very useful tune. The leather keeps the secret through the haze. [Outro] So guard your treasury, my sovereign dear. The room applauds, the Bishop takes his wine. I bless the quiet gap between the strings. I leave you with your gathered wealth... And turn to go... Unspent.