Thanks to Brenton from Haymaker Records for capturing this special moment of rock ‘n roll poetry.
The pale light through this dirty window Makes everything on the other side
Look like old phots from the 1970’s
Ohm Radha Krishnaya Namaha
Do you suffer in your new life
Is it fair to blame that empty bottle
You threw out the car window
On you last day
In high school
Ohm Radha Krishnaya Namaha
There is Blonde on Blonde light
Coming through the window
It causes all the crumbs on the table
To move to the foreground
Ohm Radha Krishnaya Namaha
It’s a Bob Dylan kind of light
Like you don’t want to smell
This light’s breath
Ohm Radha Krishna Namaha
I can’t expect you to understand me
When I said that everything
Is perfect but it is
We can always always always always
Start again
Addicted to running
To hearing every voice
The ringing is a ghost
Of love
Telephones that took our time
We used to attach ourselves
To common things
Smuggling in new light
Arrowsmith Trans Am REM
Now we distort the stolen titles
Fighting the grinder of spellcheck
The cold hard algorithms
Softening us up with baby talk
Google Twitter YouTube Paypal
We spent weeks in the woods
With a single token collect call
Spoke of my latest badges of merit
Or how many bug bites I had sustained
Even then I had very little desire to talk
Luckily there is no deadline for love
No such thing as too much love
Flowers are telephones
They like to be admired
They love to be loved
And they love you
Girl in a wheelchair at the airport
Thank you for sharing with me
Your beautiful ballet in outer space
I fell in love with you at first sight
For a moment I thought you were a boy
It felt like it happened
Almost without thinking
Why did I do that
The shoes gave it away
Why do we need that
They were pink
From above clouds can look like
Skin under a microscope
The surface of another planet
Or the old standby cotton balls
The fabric of our lives
If I’m honest it was the hair that
First got my attention
The way it hung in your eyes
Like saying look at me
I can’t see you
Okay maybe it was the wheelchair too
I don’t know which came first
In this chicken or egg world
But I just wanted to thank
Thank you for the dance
I understand the sound of my voice
May cause you to prefer
The company of wolves
But my voice is my voice
The similarities it has with others
Are the beautiful work of life
In you I see the reshaping
Of a myth with science
That tells me that you were not
Once a part of me
That I was once a part of you
And at this moment
A new myth forms
Like morning light
Abandoning the dark night
All
These old feelings
Like books
And grand sailing ships
Clear windows of glass
To new worlds
Now something different
Heavy chains around my neck
Running through sand
Disguising the path
Inspired by the whip
Of totally different worlds
Not great but perfect
Sometimes I need to hold you
Like a baby holding a baby
The sun is not up yet
You make me pay
You make me pay
The rain brings out the forest smells
Kids are walking to school in it
The dog barks at them from inside
Every day
There is so much more to learn
To burn away
We are climbing mountains on our knees
Building bridges with match sticks
The castle walls are waffle cones
Do they all know how similar we are?
How hard it is for love
To age
As American kids our lives were
Governed by burning cigarettes
Trips to the liquor store
We were so excited about our boredom
Analyzing every breath
Like it was starving
In a war torn country
Failing to convince our parents
Of things
We were right
The look of a squirrel
Is the same as forty thousand
Screaming fans
How does the dog understand the light
How could I know
This is the old man
I would be
