Three Old Songs

Three Old songs from my days in the San Francisco. Bay area (almost 20 years ago when I was very into Jung).  The Picture above is of Jungs place in Bollengin in Switzerland. The  Linz  Cafe is the name of a book and building by Christopher Alexander which was built as a part of an "architectural museum exibit", temporarily built on the Linz river in Austria,and  which I chose as the scene of the imaginary party...I-P

The Linz Cafe (a waltze)

Carl Gustav Jung, Elizabeth Cotten
talking of Dreams by the Door
while Father Divine, and Ometeotle
drink pulque and sit on the floor
and young Maya Deren was dancing for Messrs.
Arp and Cesaire by the stairs
with Black Elk on drums
and Ornette on tenor
Who wouldn't have wanted to be there?

But after they all have gone away
faded right into the blue Dear.
when I think of The Linz Cafe,
I will remember you, Dear
sitting alone
in one of the Alcoves
of my mind...

Mr. Fukuokua was laughing for nothing
Credo Mutwa and I played along
while Dylan, and Spengler, Arno Gruen and Charo
were singing a Leadbelly song
and the wooden walls rang
and the tarpalin fluttered
and the afternoon drank itself blind
till the Lord of the Dawn
kissed His sister and muttered
"do ya know 'Jesus is on the Mainline'?"

So long ago and far away
nothing was ever so true Dear
But when I think of the Linz Cafe
I'll still remember you Dear
Walking along
under the trellises
of my love....

Frying Pan
(a rock and roll song)

Once I thought I knew a lady
She was swank and Fine..
I was down and out and lonely
And She was right on time..

Well I thought I'd found a saviour
When she took hold of my hand
But she just helped me out the fire
To put me  in the fryin’ pan

Chorus: fryin’ pan, fryin’ pan

Now someones stayin’ at a shelter
Tryin’ to get themselfves straight
Tryin’ to get some motivation
Before it gets too late

Well I guess they’re tryin’ to help 'm
But he sure hopes they understand:
Don’t Make no sense to Leave the fire
To Go back in the the Fryin’ pan

Chorus

Bridge:

Well just like the Dealer needs the Citizen
You know the fire needs the fryin’ pan
And just like repression needs wild desire
You understand the fryin’ pan needs…the fire…

Well now they’re on the street in Berkely
Tryin’ to make it pay
You see them struttin’ down San Pablo
Every single day;

They see the world goin’ to blazes
Just as fast as it can…
And not much difference ‘tween the fire
And the fryin’ pan…

Sung for Jung
(sung to a hopefully elegant little piano melody)

Somewhere in Switzerland a tower does stand
Made by a man, made with his hands
Where God and the Devil dine stately and grand
Stately and Grand and touching hands
And touching hands…

Some say war is the father of everything Great
And point as Switzerland and peacetime’s estate
Saying “What out of Switzerland of consequence has come?”
Well I must answer them “Carl Gustav Jung”
“Carl Gustav Jung…”