by Paul Simon

The Mississippi Delta was shining
Like a National guitar,
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the civil war,

I’m going to Graceland
Graceland
In Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland,

Poor boys and pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland,
My traveling companion is nine years old
He is the child of my first marriage,
But I’ve reason to believe
We both will be received
In Graceland,

She comes back to tell me she’s gone,
As if I didn’t know that
As if I didn’t know my own bed,
As if I’d never noticed,
The way she brushed her hair from her forehead,
And she said losing love
Is like a window in your heart,
Everybody sees you’re blown apart,
Everybody sees the wind blow,

I’m going to Graceland,
Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland,
Poor boys and pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland,

And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties,
But I’ve reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland,

There is a girl in New York City,
Who calls herself the human trampoline,
And sometimes when I’m falling flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Whoa so this is what she means,
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland,
And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart,
Everybody sees you’re blown apart,
Everybody feels the wind blow,

In Graceland Graceland,
I’m going to Graceland,
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland,
And I may be obliged to defend
Every love every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now,
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

by Ellen P. Allerton

Home to my mother’s door. Push back the lock,
She will not open it___no use to knock.
A weight is on my breast; oh! never yet
Daughter at mother’s door such welcome met!

No kiss upon my lips; no word, no sound,
No loving arms reach out to clasp me round,
I cross the threshold to a solemn room,
Peopled with shadows, silent as the tomb.

The heavy air is chill___no fire, no light;
Only pale sunshine, streaming thin and white
Through the bare panes upon the naked floor.
I shrink and shiver___do not shut the door!

Tread lightly on the creaking boards, speak low;
Start not the hollow echoes; well I know
They sleep in every corner. Do not call,
Lest they should answer loudly, one and all.

Her voice is still. ‘Twas here I heard it last___
Here by the door. The tears fell thick and fast
From both our eyes; to-day the drops run o’er
From only mine; and she___she weeps no more.

This was her bedroom; it was here, you say,
She laid in silence all that summer day.
With roses (how she loved them!) at her head,
Wreathed on the wall and strewn upon her bed.

Now she lies yonder, and a somber pall
The dead leaves weave above her as they fall;
The rains that beat, the autmn winds that blow,
Are making ready shrouds of snow.

Whatever covers her she still sleeps well
But oh! these silent rooms; I can not tell
Why their cold emptiness should move me so;
I can not bear it longer___let us go.