"Life is like veils you tear off," said Lorraine
"No, it's walls we put up," said that tired voice again
The chisel gets blunt
And the sword gets profane
You soak up the stain
And bind up the stone chips
In the gauze that you've slain.
You get so discouraged trying to cut thru it all
More veils beyond veils
Always walls beyond the walls
"Get back in there!" yells the golden glove
"When will you trust me," slams the friend
"Learn how to bend!"
"Don't you worry now," soothes the sweet lover
With his medicine hands
I don't want to grow narrow
and foolish in old age
And miss all that beauty
That wisdom and the grace
And you know you don't get that
From high finance or fame - if you're stuck in that frame
Or the paint that you put
On your face or your name
"Life is like veils," said Lorraine
© January 17, 1972; Joni Mitchell Pub Corp (as
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RichardHoffman on :
What does
"the paint that you put on your face and your name" mean?