"Come On! Feel The Illinoise!" lyrics
[Part 1: World's Columbian Exposition]
Oh, great intentions
I've got the best of interventions
But when the ads come
I think about it now
In my infliction
Entrepreneurial condition
Take us to glory
I think about it now
Cannot conversations cull united nations?
If you've got the patience, celebrate the ancients
Cannot all creation call it celebration?
Or united nation, put it to your head
Oh, great white city
I've got the adequate committee
Where have your walls gone?
I think about it now
Chicago, in fashion
The soft drinks, expansion
Oh, Columbia
From Paris, incentive
Like Cream of Wheat invented
The Ferris wheel
Oh, great intentions
Covenant with the imitation
Have you no conscience?
I think about it now
Oh, God of Progress
Have you degraded or forgot us?
Where have your laws gone?
I think about it now
Ancient hieroglyphic or the South Pacific
Typically terrific, busy and prolific
Classical devotion, architect promotion
Lacking in emotion, think about it now
Chicago, the New Age
But what would Frank Lloyd Wright say?
Oh, Columbia
Amusement or treasure
These optimistic pleasures
Like the Ferris wheel
Cannot conversations cull united nations?
If you've got the patience, celebrate the ancients
Columbia
[Part 2: Carl Sandburg Visits Me in a Dream]
I cried myself to sleep last night
And the ghost of Carl
He approached my window
I was hypnotized
I was asked to improvise
On the attitude, the regret
Of a thousand centuries of death
Even with the heart of terror and the superstitious wearer
I am riding all alone, I am writing all alone
Even in my best condition, counting all the superstition
I am riding all alone, I am running all alone
And we laughed at the beatitudes of a thousand lines
We were asked at the attitudes, they reminded us of death
Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
Even in his heart, the Devil has to know the water level
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
And I cried myself to sleep last night
For the Earth, and materials, they may sound just right to me
Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
Even in his heart, the Devil has to know the water level
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
Oh, great intentions
I've got the best of interventions
But when the ads come
I think about it now
In my infliction
Entrepreneurial condition
Take us to glory
I think about it now
Cannot conversations cull united nations?
If you've got the patience, celebrate the ancients
Cannot all creation call it celebration?
Or united nation, put it to your head
Oh, great white city
I've got the adequate committee
Where have your walls gone?
I think about it now
Chicago, in fashion
The soft drinks, expansion
Oh, Columbia
From Paris, incentive
Like Cream of Wheat invented
The Ferris wheel
Oh, great intentions
Covenant with the imitation
Have you no conscience?
I think about it now
Oh, God of Progress
Have you degraded or forgot us?
Where have your laws gone?
I think about it now
Ancient hieroglyphic or the South Pacific
Typically terrific, busy and prolific
Classical devotion, architect promotion
Lacking in emotion, think about it now
Chicago, the New Age
But what would Frank Lloyd Wright say?
Oh, Columbia
Amusement or treasure
These optimistic pleasures
Like the Ferris wheel
Cannot conversations cull united nations?
If you've got the patience, celebrate the ancients
Columbia
[Part 2: Carl Sandburg Visits Me in a Dream]
I cried myself to sleep last night
And the ghost of Carl
He approached my window
I was hypnotized
I was asked to improvise
On the attitude, the regret
Of a thousand centuries of death
Even with the heart of terror and the superstitious wearer
I am riding all alone, I am writing all alone
Even in my best condition, counting all the superstition
I am riding all alone, I am running all alone
And we laughed at the beatitudes of a thousand lines
We were asked at the attitudes, they reminded us of death
Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
Even in his heart, the Devil has to know the water level
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
And I cried myself to sleep last night
For the Earth, and materials, they may sound just right to me
Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
Even in his heart, the Devil has to know the water level
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
Writer(s): Sufjan Stevens
