Thomas Anderson

singer, songwriter, rock 'n' roller

The Love Song of J. Edgar Hoover

by Thomas Anderson

from the album On Becoming Human

Let us go then you and I

When the evening streets are full of spies,

Provocateurs and counterspies,

Through the garden's forking paths;

Let us go through

Dark deceitful days

Of black and white cliches,

That lead you to a bitter revelation

Which the evidence all supports.

So let us go

And make our own report.

And the women restless

Where they lay,

In their dreams of Cassius Clay.

And the garbled voices we listen to,

And the muffled words we listen to,

As our companions and our friends,

Our families even in a way;

Arrange themselves in logic forced

And trace the river to its source,

A river in its serpent course

That vows to take you home.

From Allan Dulles and the OSS,

To napalm days to kevlar vests;

lan Fleming may your soul find rest

In all these repercussions.

In dreams of Kruschev and the Bay of Pigs

To nightmare skies black with MiGs,

They were dark days but I love dark days

But my love was complicated --

If you'd cracked the code

We might have celebrated.

And the women restless

Where they lay,

In their dreams of Cassius Clay.

There will be time to find the puzzle's missing pieces,

To compose and write a thesis;

And warn of national security breaches.

Time for Europe and the Wall

And a golden starlet to recall,

Stretched cold and waxen like a doll,

Before the cloak and dagger falls.

Shall I dare

Suggest you loved it too,

As every motive and its opposite

Is true.

For I have known you well already

Known you well,

Your life is like a map,

Plotted with my wiretaps

And the mundane talk from microphones

And your footsteps tap tap tap,

And I smiled at that.

And I have known your world already

Known it well,

Like strangers in familiar clothes

Become familiar -- a figure up the walk

As I walk by nonchalant and steady.

Then how could I explain,

And confess the betrayals of my names and roles,

And how could I begin.

And I have known your words already

Known them well,

Words cajoling, soft and fond,

(And in the candlelight sweetly coaxing on.)

Is it blood on a dress

That makes me so obsess --

Words of frantic explanation or resignation --

Should I dare suggest you loved it too

And smile at that.

Should I say I've walked dark corridors

And heard hard-won truths exhaled like smoke

From the dying embers of broken men.

I should perch upon a gloating web

And choose a victim to drain dry.

And my conscience, my thoughts they rest peacefully

Knowing you will say it all,

In dreams of sodium pentothal.

Stretched up on a table by my gentle hands,

Should I after war and crisis,

Have the heart to tear down all disguises.

But though I have watched and waited,

Watched and stayed

And seen my honor (shopworn, yes)

Assailed in the streets

It matters not whom I might meet.

I have seen the footage flash and flicker,

And the bullseye angels whine and bicker,

And in short -- I was bored.

So would it have meaning in the end,

After the intrigues and the traitors,

In marble halls, amid hushed talk of you and me;

Would it have meaning all the same,

To set the documents aflame

And reduce our work to cinders

Sent flying out the flue.

And come riding on a white horse,

Come back to take you, to take you far,

If one regaining her composure

Should say, "You never were the one at all.

You never were the one at all."

So would it have meaning in the end,

Would it have meaning,

After Mata Hari and the Rosenbergs

And the spy planes crashed;

After trials, after purges,

And the noose that hangs above the door,

And all that's buried 'neath the floor

I would not tell you all that I could.

But if we stood revealed,

Deciphered plain as day,

Would it have meaning --

If one taking off her glasses

And staring at the wall

In untold weariness declared,

"You were not the one at all.

You never were the one at all."

I am no white knight nor pretend to be,

Am a cipher with a pad and pen,

An aide-de-camp to greater men,

A toady -- drab and epicene.

With something of the clown that scares

The children with his manic grin

And painted mouth and leering stares

In the darkness of some great machine.

And it fades, it fades,

My friends all walk among the shades.

Do I try to make amends

Or stand defiant to the last.

I am consigned to the footnotes

And the relics of the past.

I have heard the white doves calling

Each to each.

I have learned they will not call for me.

I have seen them rushing skyward above the Mall,

Gracing the grey stone of our lifeless power

As it surely falls like Babel's Tower.

We have worked the trapdoors of history,

And watched the players live and die

'Til angelic voices wake us

And we lie.