From the recording The Road to Elfland
"Somewhere, did not Blake speak of the Machineries of Joy? ... And thus happily sent forth, at our best, with good grace and fine wit, on calm noons and in fair climes, are we not God's Machineries of Joy?"
~ Ray Bradbury, 'The Machineries of Joy'
Lyrics
I'm not much for drinking whiskey
And I surely don't like wine
I'm not much for beer on Saturday nights
But I can drink you down just fine
And I'm not much for fancy houses
Or expensive cars to drive
The might be fun to play with
But they don't keep you alive
We are born for summer mornings
Running golden through the day
A night wind blows through winter's grass
We regret and fade away
Give us gods, O give them us
Let our love be not destroyed
Rise and fall, years and all
The machineries of joy
There are no words for what we do here
We love our children anyway
My daughter has my walking shoes
To help her find her way
And if god in pregnant silence hides
Our questions tumble to the ground
We can't protect our children from this pain
So we seek to strike it down
Give us gods, O give them us
Let our love be not destroyed
Rise and fall, years and all
The machineries of joy
I came from brilliance, I return there
I think there's irony in this
Come sit beside me now, hold my hand
Give to me a lover's kiss
And this alone shall be my reason
To write my meaning in the sand
And spend our time beneath our summer sun
Spilling sunlight from our hands
And so I love you like fine chocolate
Especially the dark kind
And like the waters from the river
I can drink you down just fine
Give us gods, O give them us
Let our love be not destroyed
Through rise and fall, through years and all
These are the machineries of joy