The Jeweller lyrics

Artist  : John Cale 
Song : The Jeweller



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Very slowly he sipped his tea, not shifting his
glance from the thick double spaced printing he
read with his jeweller's eye

Engrossed in
his corner, he passed onto the other inhabitants
of the room a scrawled insularity of time and
space

For both passed him by with the
speed of light, not unlike the flow of substance,
however varied, into that lysergic entity known as
the black hole

He was hardly ugly for his
time, and conversation was certainly not lost on
him
Drastic measures were called for, and as
in antiquity the lonely man was blessed with
wisdom to the point of desperation

But
there in his corner, developing around him like a
sun, was a climate of such rare beauty that sight
and sound could no longer be considered
sufficient food for the senses

And he had
begun to notice, as his hearing failed, that mind
and matter were in no way connected to one other,
as if in fact the one could not propose and prove
its erotic existence in terms of the
other

"What does this word mean?" he
enquired of the solemn waiter
hopefully
"Nothing for desert sir", came the
reply, "perhaps a cocktail, demitasse or a herbal
essence, it helps the breathing you know
sometimes". "The bill, if you don't mind",
quickly he shot back

And as the patter of
the feet faded in the room, for he barely heard
them now, his eye slowly began to close, and by
the time he emerged on the sunny street he was
forced to rely entirely on the other eye for
help, but happily it continued its many
functions, blinking gently for lubrication, and
registering images
It was rush hour, in Hawaii
only 10am

So, turning into his street, he
stopped at the drug store and bought an eye patch
that soon covered the reluctant
eye

Climbing the stairs he pondered what
to do next, he would call a doctor and have tests
made, eat nourishing food and if necessary consent
to surgery, the last resort of the gambling
man

And at 1am he awoke from a dream and
after fumbling his way in the obolescent light of
his room he peered into the rusty veins of his
mirror and lifted away the patch
What he saw
astonished him. Where once was tremulous tissue
and membrane was now a follicle and perfectly
formed vagina with vulva, overgrown and
mysterious, unrevealing and still to the
untrained eye

But in the deep dark
recesses of that sticky occlusion lay the
unclosing watchful eye of disgust in its closing
moments, lunging forward and hungry for the cold
light of days