[Jandek] 0803 Toronto Sunday Lyrics

Nikolai Sadikogli ilfuturiste at hotmail.com
Tue Oct 12 19:12:28 PDT 2010

Thanks to all who posted early impressions of lyrics after the original show...

Corwood 0803, TORONTO
SUNDAY (CD, 2010) 

Nilan Perera (electric and acoustic guitars), Rob Clutton
(double bass), Nick Fraser (percussion)


Duality of Self

1.2. Part One 

Did you put the change through

No, I thought...I thought I might have miscommunicated

Put it through today

He said it would not be a problem

OK anything else

No, it’s quiet, let me know when you need me

OK now back to the sickbed

Sounds like rain

Yes, it’s raining

Wonder if I’ll go out

Maybe later

Went out streetside chair

Watching cars people light rain

Looked at my watch

I’ll stay another 30 minutes

Small act of control

The shapes and sounds of traffic

Robots in the sky

Small fleet of sparrows seeking crumbs

Decided not to use the umbrella

Rain slight

Walked for hours navigating the city

Resting the afternoon

Tomorrow’s for putting the pieces together

They need me to be something

Those who know me

Grace of God

Fallen down experience

Recalled night of languor

It’s about feeling

I’m yours 

I abandon me 

The city gates were just a figment 

It only took a day to return

The changeover the promise of evening 

Morning birth 

Why did I ever leave

Because I forgot 

Eyes open and we’ll all remember

The last stand of the pilgrim

The sickbed rings hope

Time of quite 

Linger longer

Hot healing 

Mind clearing

Resolution of temper 

Earthquake of the soul

I am the rebound

Nothing else need occur

Singular in the silent sun


The clarity of passage

A mental image commingled with physical sight

Strange the mind is seeing one thing

And the body another 

Move the body sight to the mind image

The timeless work

I’ll go there I’ll not falter

Avoiding all the potential threats

The unwavering steel supported the structure

The fulfillment of a plan

The dream purpose 

The sensation of mathematics

His thoughts took on an objective isolation

They resembled geometric lines

Not nerve-impulsed

None other than his own

The ideas were not random

He concluded them from past experience

He dispersed them to reach new conclusions

The formula of heat

You could contemplate 50 variations 



1.3. Part Two

Shoes still wet from yesterday’s rain


I don’t define myself

I could be anyone

I could be everyone

In a room alone

Why am I not everyone

Why isn’t everything I perceive really me

Like water balance the blood

Moonlit night the stars bright

Dark shadow of trees

Rustle of animals

Eerie sounds

The killing time

Run fast young fawn

Better yet, apprehend keen sense of danger

But the city took me away

Communication of humanity

The everyone picture

The diet of man 

Gardened in the grace of God

Love halo 

Protection from destruction 

I destroy myself to be anyone 

You can’t know me 

I’m not prohibited person

Eater of air minerals

The chemistry imperial

Partake power

Dissolve identity

Destroy yourself and live

Unexpected revelation

The monastery

Rising out of your own ruin

Castigated disillusion

The remedy is real

Factory of failure

There you know there you live

Crime of criticism 

Mocking mournful afraid to die

Afraid to live 

Stay in the small pocket of productivity

Celestial ceiling

The sparks fly 

Category of counting

Last follows next

We continue 

The mark of matter

Germ warfare

Kill or be killed

Story of cellular survival

Carry on forward my son

Something must live on 

The time cannot be wasted

I tear down my body

Growth of youth neurons and dendrons

The conceiving stretching notion of motion

Times were good then

I didn’t know it 

I don’t know it now

Capping the explosion

Regressing to nonexistent

It’s all the work of a slow day

Leaves still green 

Waiting for the death of ice

The lightness of the morning streets

The confidence of the wind

Gallant credo 

A sly glance

A knowing belief

The trooper marches 

Bouncing step 

I’m not here

No one sees me

Invisible micron

Story of sadness

The need to disappear

She cast me to the center

All the circle circumference around outside

Me here beyond reach


2.1. Part Three

The reason to be circled like a cat

Sensing the taste of blood

I protected cat spirit fending off the real

I walked through raging fire

Nothing touches me

Nothing is there

Only my gift

It gives 

I walk on 

United in the all-knowing passion 

The elegant dance

The costume of circumstance

He tried to blend in 

To gather no attention

The unnoticed drift 

Light as air 

Colorless dissembled movement through coolness of clouds

He only needed to continue

That was enough

Obliterated objectives

Yesterday went poof

The hour advanced forgotten 

Signs in the street 

Construction machinery

The look of a hundred people

It was all a work of art

He carried his art on his bones

Skin stretched over his hanging apparel 

Stick of a man

The same as everyone

He was everything 

There was no differentiation

His idea was the real 

All else took our life because of him

One day he decided

Everything before is now

All now will be

That’s where I am

The will be now 

Sometimes it was interesting enough

He could hold himself high

The solar system wasn’t important

Speculation was absurd

The same was not the same

He knew because he destroyed himself

He continued anew

Bright span glowing direction

He didn’t lead he followed

He was pulled by a force into time

He knew he had to go

I let him disappear

I frequently found myself

Unable to remember

The forgetting was a blessing

It created now 

All I wanted was now

Not a plan

Even the concrete construction had no purpose

I decided nothing I followed the beacon

He sprawled about the bed at night

Waiting for the dawn

At times I watched him

Was he really me

We didn’t want the world to know we were two 

It was our secret

He spoke I listened

He moved I watched

He heard me breathing

Catching up on him

Trying to make him change

Trying to kill him

So I could be

He was too fallible

I was perfection of thought

Streaming down the boulevard

The boulevard lined with trees

The trees became wilderness

A mass of broken parts

Walking difficult

Sure footed he did not stumble

He knew that pastures and lakes distant would appear

He pushed obstructions from the way

I waited for a quiet time


2.2. Part Four 

I decided to make him do what I wanted 

What I needed

I grew tired of the years of regret

I thought I could do it

I believed that I could do it

I started telling myself how wrong he was going

The moment had simply arrived

Bursting through all the blockades

The whoosh of a torrent

The calm stillness of was one(?)

Conjuctive clarity

I took responsibility 

He was mine I knew best

Savior him

Erase entanglements

Fertility of creation

His mind lifted panes of glass in the French doors

Wicker chairs unlocked drapes aside

Light beams falling on the bed

All white the sheets

Afternoon amble

And you all around

You gave me life

You drew me underground

Cast out as him who I found

It took a long time to know him

He was running so fast

He was running from you

He was running to me

And then I found him

I let him dominate my world

I watched him live and die

And when he was over

I emerged

And here I am

I crucify the thing he was

I let him suffer and die

No way to avoid it

He died for me

I thought I’d come here and I’d say

Take your wings and fly away

Leave what you were

Come alive with me today

You must take me as I am

Otherwise just go away

I didn’t really need you

He only thought that he did

So we can rise up from our dead

Look around and then 

Sink to the bottom and not be seen again

I know that he goes through the little things that he does

But all the basic decisions belong to me

And me alone

Moving past the great outdoors

Moving past inside the walls

Disappearing day by day

But then he lost all confidence

And I couldn’t restore that confidence

If we were one how could he act so independently

I became lost in my inability 

Did he loose confidence or did I

I felt helpless and incapable 

Thrown away to his power 

Unstable and listless

The notion of control sank to a bottomless pit of discomfort


2.3. Part Five 

I would keep him in the room today

I needed to talk to him

Most of the time he listened

I didn’t understand these impulses these moods

I needed to communicate without external influences

I didn’t want to loose the clarity achieved

Back to the sickbed

Try not to think

If he goes

I want to stay

Even if I don’t understand

It’s always possible he will be me someday

That gives me hope 

But I don’t like to be disturbed by his behavior

I surveyed what was offered

And had in mind what to do 

At the last minute 

Some urge came over him

And we did something different

Now we suffer

Back to the sickbed

Reconstruct life

Why can’t I just kill him


He’s floating in a river

Image of the early hours

Deranged by choice

What is this place

His eyes glanced around

Readily he saw what before he took for granted

Geometric passageways

The design of someone else

He surfaced from the moon

The voices bother him


Why all these words

The end was coming

He longed for the days when he just roasted animals over the
open fire

When he pulled fish from the water

And now what was pulling him 

Where was mankind going

It was a question not to be asked

The world looked at him as a foreign thing

What was pulling him away

No one touched him

He was a secret 

He was wanted somewhere else

One other day down the avenue of fate

Life of the city abounding

Children in red jackets

The other voice wafting through the room 

Windows street

Yellow firehydrants


March of sex

He took his eyes

He forgot me in the panorama

I wait 

I will have my day

I am the perfection of thought

And he knows me

I am the intuition that saves him

And he knows 

Gratitude he gives incessant

I accept his acknowledgement

And I let him go

Free to establish his will

Cauldron of cold

Remarkable the parade of existence

Stimulation of cement

Towers in a row

Beauty of the bleak beclouded horizon

Gathered in ceremony

Helpers of the infirm

Guidance for the wayward

Teachers of the young 

Protectors of the threatened

Cryptic talent

Thinking through all the threads that lead to his now

Cancel the wherefore and the why 

He was he continues he doesn’t know what will be

The many colors of the early afternoon

Tomorrow’s promise coming down



Nikolai Sadik-Ogli
ilfuturiste at hotmail.com

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