spirits fly, one two three, come up behind me tonight shadows shine, brilliantly, burning behind me so fine
spirits talk, they whisper lies, green trees and cloudy skies- someone is high spirits breathe upon my face; lighter than than lace I comply
people stare, stare at me, I’ll be what they want me to be- I don’t mind stay inside, lock the door, prisoner of war so refined
spirits fly, four through six, held by the wrist I can’t lie burning cry, lost in mist, don’t let them see in my mind
secret things on tippy toe, where do they go in the night introduce, stop and stare, walking on air it’s not right
never known, misunderstood, nobody’s good in the night cotton falls all over me, how can i see what is right
silver moon, decompose, never expose us tonight spirit’s fly, seven eight, drip and dilate it’s alright
people stare, stare at me, I’ll be what they want me to be- but they can’t see in the night spirits fly nine and ten, sun rises up muscles us into the light
brains will fall back into place,hearts wear their double face, running a race to the light dreams will dry and disappear, cheer will replace getting high
You were sweet, you were good
Picking up the coins that they dropped
Trying to give them back just like you should
Fall fall fall fall fall fall fall fall
Fall fall fall fall fall through a hole
Nobody knows, nobody knows where you go
There was a hole inside your bone
it made it easier to be alone
cause you could fly
or at least you could try.
Strange ideas knock on your door
You tell them nobody’s home, but you not sure
Is it your mother there dressed like a hag
Maybe a brick of gold deep in her bag
Turn turn turn turn turn turn turn turn
Turn turn turn turn turn to the sky
People say they find the answers there
or at least they die dying to try
There a hole inside your bone
the strangest things come inside when you’re alone
and you would tell them all to leave you alone
but you don’t know which ones belong-
Where is your home?
Heart-shaped footprints deep in the snow
Step by step up the mountain side, places you will never go
Cause you were born born born born born like a birdy to fly
or at least you were born born born born dying to try
sweet things sing with tulip voices
electro shock you have no choices
animals walk in a strange parade
inside your head: what feathery dream are made
a soothing sound deep in your ear
says don’t tell a soul dear- this will be your year
you’ve waded through hate, you’ve waded through fear
now just wait for the rainbow to appear
fade fade fade fade fade fade into night
dreams invade invade your brain
filling it with good and bad light
There is a hole inside your bone
it makes it easier to be alone
cause you can fly
or at least you can try.
James says it is important to write some kind of introduction to a song, to help people understand it. And while I agree with him, it is not really possible for me to do so at this time. Because… whenever I write in prose I feel that I end up channeling some strange personality not my own. Sometimes I call this voice Mr. Pompadou and other times Mr. Belvedere, but at any rate it is horrifying to imagine that someone might mistake this voice for me.
A person’s writing voice is partially, I suppose, a reflection of who they imagine their audience to be. I imagine people reading this who are intelligent, but also close-minded and hostile. Therefore, Mr. Belvedere comes out as a protective measure. Nobody could be mad at a man like him!
Cards and Slots
Cards and slots, drinks and dots,
dropping more things than you got
forms a rift, continental drift…
essential things float away in the mist
and you are pissed.
But if you want to play the blame game you know
it will only be your name on the list;
still I insist
you reconsider all the evidence.
Lost in time, lost in sea, lost in space…
a man was born who never had a face;
they all say he doesn’t exist,
but they can’t explain the pain that emits from his wet kiss.
Is it amiss to be sad, to be mad
when you think of the things that you missed…
and yet you should always remember this:
That you were placed in this space
because you are the man with the gift,
to bringing light into the heart of the pit;
flying high- the blackest soil provides the greatest lift,
the deepest dose of nutrient.
Half the time you fall, half the time you are in pain
but it’s not your fault that you wear chains.
Half of what you said only made your heart lose hope,
but its not your fault that there’s
a black man stalking you dragging a long white rope.
Valentines just in time
twist your brain to form a rhyme-
tell her that you love her the most…
say that you’re about to explode!
(Knuckles crack crack, echoing inside your abode,
but as the tensions rise there are things you must know.)
Is a friend in need the type of friend you need-
what about a scratch for your back?
a feather you can slap into your cap?
cause it stalls in your craw that nobody never gives back.
A thousand faces laugh from their seats-
you’re the only man on the stage,
trying not to fly into rage, and you wonder…
were you that dumb at their age?
Goodbye, goodbye
to everything that never made sense,
to all the knots that only grew dense;
my repentance will be vengeance.
Half the time you crawl, half the time you are insane
but it’s not your fault that you wear chains.
Half of what you said, it was only a way to cope,
but soon you will turn to fight
the black man stalking you dragging his long white rope.
It looks like I succeeded in writing a relatively happy song that doesn’t include death or murder, but still, somehow bones managed to work their way into it. I really do wish I could write a song without mentioning bones, but apparently I can’t. Before bones, it was ice and people dying from hypothermia. Why the obsession with uncuddly white things? I don’t know, but hopefully I will grow out of it.
I have been learning a little bit about bones recently- dinosaur bones. I was trying to celebrate the dullest time of year (I mean that as a complement) by learning about the most boring thing I could imagine, which for me was dinosaurs. But I have to say, once I knew a little more about them, they no longer seemed so boring. What I like most about them is how they opened my mind to larger cycles of time- deep time, as paleontologists call it. It’s a refreshing antidote to the “shallow time” perspective of our culture, which encourages us to see each decade as a major historical epoch.
Bone to Bone
People say you are the dark one
dim and dusty, cold and hard one
dry and scaly skin
blood so sour and thin
draw the curtains and let our time begin
Bone to bone now
in a dark room
press your forehead to mine
let the world resume
let them stick to their ways
I will come out changed
I will speak my mind and I
won’t care what they say
People tell me you’re a creep
you tell me people are sheep
I believe you will outlast them
watching from your mountain so steep
Your room so dark and blue
the whole world is a shadow to you
your bones they bear the lines of
every tooth that sank into you
Claw marks across your arm
why did they mean you harm?
you with a spine so straight that I
I cling to your arm
Outside the winds derange, but I
I will come out changed
I can feel your bones upon me now
so cold and so strange
Let the vinegar spill out
let it roll down your chin
let me hear your blackest words now
let your long long story begin
Nights in the jungle survived
you are the one who came out alive
dipped in blood you walked back home
so thin but swollen with pride
Your blood in my veins, I
I will come out changed
I will laugh at all of their words
I won’t care what they
Your hand on my hand now I
I can see through your eyes
all the chains were only shadows
all the flags were only their lies
The imprint of your bones
like an angel to follow me home
you will always be beside me
blood to blood and bone to bone.
Hmmm… I just realized that 72% of my recent songs have been about death, 31% about sadistic murders, and the remaining ones mostly about people being beat up, kidnapped, or chased. Time to seek professional help or is this just normal Scorpio behavior? Next week I will try writing happy songs, maybe.
Hunt for Me
Smile, smile, smile, smile
Sin, sin, sin
You were born the king of our town
I will bow, I will bend.
Two, two, two stars collide
Please stay warm upon your throne now
I will run I will hide.
Ladies in silk
Wanting to adore you
Laughing at your jokes
Kneeling on the floor for you
Look at your life, a page of fantasy.
So please, don’t hunt for me.
Dad knows best
Watch me kneel down and beg for forgiveness
Watch me stand up to the world and confess.
Gold and lace
Everything I have will be piled at your feet
Please don’t chase, please don’t chase.
Look at me crawl
Scratching at the dirt now
Look at me fall
Ripping up my shirt now
Rolling in mud, pig for all to see.
So please, don’t hunt for me.
Run so far you always follow me
Shadows so dark they always swallow me
I can make sure that no one ever loves me
I can make sure everyone’s above me
Run so far but tripping on the black lines
I can hear you say I’m running out of time
You knew it was all a big lie
Licking on your lips, because you love to watch things die.
Please no blade
No dogs die, please no rabbits,
Just humiliate, please humiliate.
Your smile is warm
Only sun, only summer
Please no storm, please no storm.
You can take some snips; I won’t try to mend me
I will tell the people never to defend me
I will tear myself apart for all to see.
So please, don’t hunt for me.
