| 描述： | There's a group here in Canada called Cowboy Junkies that embraces a minimalist aesthetic, recording their first album in a barn around a single mic. I couldn't do that (there's only one of me), but I did try to keep it Cowboy Junkie simple. Love's a Puzzle that we Make Opens the box, scatters pieces here and there The picture is a dragon, but on the table blue and grey everywhere She looks at the picture, and at the diffuse lot And everpainter, ever artist she puts them in their spot For days, the chaos lingers More Picasso than Krieghoff But piece by piece, bit by bit The randomness, she shakes off Sky takes shape, the ground, the castle mortar and the beast Now not much is strewn, just the ones so hard to piece Watching it take form, observers start to see Love's labours never lost, constrained and yet set free He takes the pink guitar, rattles the pickup switch Recalling long ago, when it wasn't so hard to pitch The pieces on the table, formed clearly in his mind He puts the last reel on the deck, remembers to rewind Note by note he feels it, that puzzle in his head Every piece she layed in, he plays where it was set Music takes shape, dragons clouds fall into line And an age old castle, stitched back with nickel twine Deep in winter's darkness, what else can you do? But love the things you have, love the ones you're with No break will come, to end the masks and cautions that we take Except imagination, love's a puzzle that we make, Love's a puzzle that we make. Yeah, love's a puzzle that we make. Love's a puzzle that we make. |