Lyrics
Instinct
Paris, June 1993
copyright Hanson R. Hosein

I hunt tiger in the Arctic ice
frost-bitten thought does not suffice
Magnetic North provides no pull tonight.

I soar after hawks beneath the moss
sky high ideas get me lost
The sun directs me South towards the frost.

I chase sharks in a green-soaked forest
razor-edged reason dulls my focus
My confused compass refuses me solace.

I search scorpion in the salty sea
logic's sting paralyses me
The depth deprives my measure to breathe.

You, I discover in the desert night
a cold, clear feeling gives me sight
Warm, lasting truths provide the light.

[with thanks to Manon Dumas for suggested changes, especially with the addition of verse 2]


Learning to Live with the Wind
New York, June 29, 1994
copyright Hanson R. Hosein

You wake up harboring hope
that your ship will come sailing in.
But each morning betrays the day,
empty hours go rolling by.

You scan the sky for a sign,
the empty air prompts a sigh.
And what scares you most is
you're learning to live with the wind.

You like the loneliness
the leagues of aimlessness
and you're lost in the drift
of leaving things behind.

The storms don't disturb you
much,
the tide's too weak to drag you in.
And if you're driven a little mad,
at least you've travelled somewhere.

You reroute the passion
tangle the knots of emotion
and the gentle swaying makes you wonder
if you'll ever love again.

Because what scares you most
is, you're learning to live with the wind, you're learning to live
with the wind, learning to live with the wind...




From That High
Hanson R. Hosein
St. Jean de Maurienne, Paris, April 24, 1993


I turned twenty-four on a mountain.
Was it the French Alps or was it Pride?
Fall, summer or winter's slide?
The seasons don't mean very much from that High.

I turned twenty-four on a mountain.
Nothing to pull me up -- but much to pull me down.
A confused Nature hid Her crown.
You know I feel so very small from that High.

I turned twenty-four on a mountain.
A cloudless idea that -- at the time seemed bold.
A true, telling wind left me cold.
My dreams are so dizzying from that High.

I don't know which way to go.
I don't know when to go.
I don't know how to go.
I don't know why to go.
The only way around,
seems
down...

I spent some time on a mountain.
Nothing to pull me up -- but much to pull me down.
A confused nature made me frown.
The seasons don't mean very much from that High.
You know I feel so very small from that High.
My dreams are so dizzying from that High.
I think that I'll climb down so that I...



CHILD AT THE END OF TIME
HRH, Tel Aviv December 16, 1998

Last night
I dreamt very hard
about getting back to you
somehow I need to
I need to
make this dream
come true.

Last night
I dreamt very hard
that I stole some strawberries
seems strange -- I did it
I did it with
confidence it
scares me.

Each morning, I awake
so cold and I fear
I fear
I've lost it all
Like a wasted writer in exile
a singer past his prime
a millionaire without his millions
a child at the end of time.

Today
I happened to look
up at a red, sun-tinged cloud
and I saw there was
there was still hope
dream long out
loud....



The Whisper of a Summer's Tale
Unionville, August 26, 1989
HRH

The bright light of the moon's night
echoes off my eyes and ears
Pushing past the pain
Pushing past the tears.

I like
I like
I like
to be alone

Preying rays of the sun's days
engage me in the chase
Running the edge of the earth
Running the earth's face.

I like
I like
I like
the kiss of life

I never meant to fall
I never meant to fall
I never meant to fall
I never meant to fall
but as summer's tree whispered autumn's bell
I fell

In love
I love
to be with you


Under the Clock (Rendez-vous sous l'horloge)
Paris, April 1993
HRH

When next we meet, will we pretend that we're spies,
furtive glances, attempts to hide from time's eyes?
Or will we face the enemy that faced us down before?
Seizing the moment like putting a foot in the door?

I know what we will do, there was never another way,
it might be Paris, Rome, New York or Bangkok.
We know what to do, and though neither of us will stay,
We will meet once yet again, under the clock.

When next we meet, will we pretend we're phantom lovers,
keeping a secret that jealous time always uncovers?
Or will we tell the truth like we told before?
Savour the moment like a enjoying a lull in the war?

I know what we will do, there was never another way
it might be on the sea, sand, ocean or rock.
We know what to do, and thought both of us will later stray
We will meet once yet again, under the clock.

You did not come in to take shelter,
you did not come in to take.
Your indifference to the time,
made intense friends -- for friendship's sake.

You did not hold on to own something,
you did not reach out to hold.
Your indifference to the time,
made it best to share -- better than gold.

The next time that we meet, there will be no better way,
There will be no need for stealth, there will be no games to play.
Keep the date and wind the watch, time will no longer shock.
And I will look forward to seeing you
... under the clock.