Theatre For The Broken-Juliet Turner

Theatre For The Broken - Juliet Turner A stone floor Was my warmest lying place When you all lay near Curled up for hours beside the gas fire When all the ways to me seemed spiked and sheer Now we were not used To being pursued Much less to being caught so gently Welcome in all ye clumsy people All you whose tongues are Tied with cords of scorn This is your theatre for the broken Where the doors are always open You smoke to stay thin and Make love to paper porn Then when your days Grow green and leafy And your limbs at last agree They take you back to the garden Where you came from And help you remember how to be A groovy swinger on a deep down rooted broom tree Spheres of fire are spinning into dame street And the ice is cracking thin And all the ships that went to Canada are one by one being blown back in Now my brash hope has dwindled into certainty And I no longer care to question why But I miss The cramping hunger That drove me to the boards I miss the do or die That do or die I was never born to be satisfied Welcome home all ye clumsy people All you who never were afraid to fall This is your theatre for the broken Where the doors are always open You dare to talk about macbeth Before the curtain call Now my days drew green and leafy And my limbs hang loose and free It's time to go back to the garden Where I came from And time to remember how to be A groovy swinger on a deep down rooted broom tree Now my days drew green and leafy And my limbs hang loose and free It's time to go back to the garden Where I came from And time to remember how to be A groovy swinger on a deep down rooted broom tree A groovy swinger on a deep down rooted Storm resistant broom tree