VOLUME XIV

1. Walls

I stole the time of fourteen months,
To build walls tall enough that even the men from space could see
But still sometimes, on a highway drives
Like the dry dead leaves caught between your boot seams
It gets to me,
Memories of the times, before I even met Sydney
Then we all try to remember,
To remind ourselves not to do the opposite of breathing
I took my shovel and I went out into the woods
And I buried myself holding all our old records
And I put metal to my foot,
And I pushed into the dirt,
And I’ve lasted harsher winters than you

 

2. Science

In a life filled zeros and other numbers
I did it for science
I feel this photograph between my broken fingers
But I don’t see an image clear
My body responds like a boxer winded
And through these broken fingers we hold nothing clear
If I ever make it to France,
I’d stay up all night and forget my jet lag
Well I am more than my job

 

3. Dead Men's Gardens

In the court of public opinion
You always have to be wary of who the jury is
And who are you?
And who are you seeking the approval of?
Broken men tend to take care of other dead men’s gardens
And what does that mean?
What does that mean to you?
I hope my name leaves a bad taste in your mouth

 

4. Collapsed Lungs

It’s sad like hearing the songs of a revolution that went all wrong
Over the loud speakers at your local Wal-Mart
And that’s dark
And it’s sad that the 21st century,
Well you know it makes sense to me
And after thirteen dry months,
Someone decided that it should rain
And after thirteen months someone decided
And I left cigarette butts and collapsed lungs
In the wake of my stay,
Does art define the man?
And if it does, then I need to get away from my pen
Being an artist means you don’t get a life
You only get the right to write the moments

 

5. Songs & Paintings

I know it’s silly but I would like to see my songs turn into paintings
Because you could then surround yourself and decide if it was right
To black out your eyes one summer night
Now does it feel right?
I’ve learned and I’ve lost bad habits since that day
And my new passion I know that you’d hang your head in shame
I’ve been stealing spare change from wishing wells
From people who were wishing that they could just forget your name

 

6. Last Names

You’re either blessed or your cursed with the D.N.A. of the last name you were given
The mathematical equation of frustration it’s always changing
Like shaking a can of paint our faces changed to the shape of our D.N.A.
You’ve been avoiding the nuances of the reality that you needed
Instead jumping into the insurmountable amount of information you knew you never needed
And you know wherever you are, there’s another highway, 
That’s begging for another no named face
For heels to scrape against the paint of pavements
Another highway with a numbered name
And I’ve been conscious of the new decisions that I decide to make
Conscious that they don’t become a mistake

 

7. A Crosswalk Ending

It should be poetic that this story arc begins and ends with a crosswalk
I turned and I walked away from you
Now if we were to meet someday in the future
I wouldn’t talk; I’d fix you a plate
And we’d sit silent knowing that we both made some mistakes
And the fate of conclusions can go so many different ways
And after all this pain, 
I don’t have any answers
My limbs repair and my legs are beginning to stand straight
I’m learning to stand straight

 

8. Rainbow Connection

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
and what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it.
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.
Who said that every wish would be heard
and answered when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that and someone believed it.
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.
All of us under its spell. We know that it's probably magic.
Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors.
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
Is it something that I'm supposed to be?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.