Chicago back in '02
A sky swelling black and blue
Still drunk from the night before
I woke up on the bedroom floor
I lit a smoke and hit the street
Sweat electric in the summer heat
Logan Square stickin' to the skin
When the clouds cracked I was born again
She was a stranger
I didn't know her name
But we sat there together with our arms up in the rain
I believe in love and possibility
Her eyes were music and her laugh was poetry
Stinson Beach back in '98
One a.m. when we hopped the gate
Our feet buried in the winter sand
Talkin' shit about future plans
Jagged hope and gettin' high
Staring up star-freckled sky
Kinetic night pulling at me
I dove naked into the begging sea
With the cold black chaos
Surging all around
I went floating calmly
I became unwound
I believe in wild grace
And constant energy
I was just a word in the waves howled poetry
Washington just last week
In the woods beneath the snowy peaks
Three friends runnin' in the trees
Made young by company
Tumbling down cliff-edged dunes
New ideas and the harvest moon
Stick and poke to commemorate
Staples in my skin to mark the date
I believe in love and possibility
I believe in the binding tie
Connectivity
The song of life should be a bit sloppy and full of honesty
If you scream it loud and make it stick I'll hit that harmony
She blew in from Boston
She came with the snow
Familiar Sister
The burning high to the low
She had brains
And a penchant for booze
Burnt out and flickering
She was the fuse
You gotta go
We get it
But run the wires
Leave the current on
It flows
So don't clip it
We'll need that shock kick
When you're away and gone
We did some time in Chicago
Before we threw our cords in the Bay
Better off as just friends
The circuits ran better that way
We stayed tight
A radiant bind
Now she's off to Austin
To run some more volts through her mind
(With out her around we're gonna shut down)
You gotta go
We get it
But run the wires
Leave the current on
It flows
So don't clip it
We'll need that shock kick
When you're away and gone
Do you remember when we could walk straight? Thinking I was nervous for the both of us 'till I proved form and function for the moment when all breath and movement hopelessly don't fit. And there's one thing we're still sure of, we all turn to dust. On a scale that weighs something you could never touch. I don't believe in myths but still I think there's something to be said. That it's easier to breathe when you drain the goddamn sea. And I'll hang on every word you've ever heard. I can see clear through your illness: lined up cold to touch. To be empty and full at once, patience is a must. God's a useless fiction I don't want because I don't need your crutch. Cause it's easier to breath when we drain the goddamn sea. And I'll hang on every word you've ever heard.
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