Rick Suchow

Waves of violet go crashing and laughing

Rainbow-winged singing birds fly 'round the sun

Sunbells rain down in a liquid profusion

Mermaids on porpoises draw up the dawn

What's become of the baby

This cold December morning?

-Robert Hunter, "What's Become Of The Baby" 1969

All of my friends come to see me last night

I was laying in my bed and dying

Annie Beauneu from Saint Angel say, "The weather down here so fine"

Just then the wind came squalling through the door

But who can the weather command

Just want to have a little peace to die

And a friend or two I love at hand

-Robert Hunter, "Black Peter" 1970

The wolf came in, I got my cards

We sat down for a game

I cut my deck to the Queen of Spades

but the cards were all the same

Don't murder me

I beg of you, don't murder me

Please

don't murder me

-Robert Hunter, "Dire Wolf" 1970

As I was walking 'round Grosvenor Square

Not a chill to the winter but a nip to the air

From the other direction she was calling my eye

Could be an illusion but I might as well try

Might as well try

She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes

I knew without asking she was into the blues

Scarlet begonias tucked into her curls

I knew right away she was not like other girls ---  other girls

-Robert Hunter, "Scarlet Begonias" 1974

Wharf Rat down

way down

down by the docks of the city,

Blind and dirty

asked me for a dime ---

dime for a cup of coffee

I got no dime but

I got time to hear his story

-Robert Hunter, "Wharf Rat" 1971

Rat in a drain ditch, caught on a limb

You know better but I know him

Like I told you what I said

Steal your face right off your head

Now he's gone Lord he's gone

Like a steam locomotive rolling down the track

He's gone, he's gone and nothing's gonna bring him back

He's gone

-Robert Hunter, "He's Gone" 1972

Cloud hands reaching from a rainbow

Tapping at the window

Touch your hair

So swift and bright, strange figures of light 

Float in air

-Robert Hunter, "Crazy Fingers" 1975

Cats on the bandstand

Give 'em each a big hand

Anyone who sweats that hard must be all right

No one wants a fight

No black eye

Just another cat beneath the stars tonight

-Robert Hunter, "Cats Under The Stars" 1978

Brown-eyed women and red grenadine 

The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean

Sound of the thunder with the rain pouring down 

And it looks like the old man's getting on

-Robert Hunter, "Brown-Eyed Women" 1972