TERRAPIN

"Terrapin Station"
Words by Robert Hunter; music by Jerry Garcia

LADY WITH A FAN
Let my inspiration flow in token lines suggesting rhythm
that will not forsake me till my tale is told and done
While the firelight's aglow strange shadows in the flames will grow
till things we've never seen will seem familiar
Shadows of a sailor forming winds both foul and fair all swarm
down in Carlisle he loved a lady many years ago
Here beside him stands a man a soldier by the looks of him
who came through many fights but lost at love
While the storyteller speaks a door within the fire creaks
suddenly flies open and a girl is standing there
Eyes alight with glowing hair all that fancy paints as fair
she takes her fan and throws it in the lion's den
"Which of you to gain me, tell will risk uncertain pains of Hell?
I will not forgive you if you will not take the chance"
The sailor gave at least a try the soldier being much too wise
strategy was his strength and not disaster
The sailor coming out again the lady fairly lept at him
that's how it stands today you decide if he was wise
The storyteller makes no choice soon you will not hear his voice
his job is to shed light and not to master
Since the end is never told we pay the teller off in gold
in hopes he will come back but he cannot be bought or sold...

TERRAPIN STATION
Inspiration, move me brightly light the song with sense and color,
hold away despair
More than this I will not ask faced with mysteries dark and vast
statements just seem vain at last
some rise, some fall, some climb to get to Terrapin
Counting stars by candlelight all are dim but one is bright:
the spiral light of Venus rising first and shining best,
From the northwest corner of a brand-new crescent moon
crickets and cicadas sing a rare and different tune

Terrapin Station in the shadow of the moon
Terrapin Station and I know we'll be there soon
Terrapin - I can't figure out. Terrapin - if it's an end or the beginning
Terrapin - but the train's got its brakes on and the whistle is screaming:
TERRAPIN!

AT A SIDING
While you were gone these spaces filled with darkness
The obvious was hidden with nothing to believe in
the compass always points to Terrapin
The sullen wings of fortune beat like rain
You're back in Terrapin for good or ill again. For good or ill again.