Sunday, March 29, 2009

This song needs a title

On the cloudiest night through a satellite's eyes
You can see it
The people below throwing stones
Sleep in attics and basements
There's a war we all know and we're scared
That we'll have to go fight it
So for several years we have done all we can do to spite it

The final frontier has been cleared
Now it's closed so we're clinging
To what we've got left
Our few honest attempts at a living
And halfway around the world
People are dying
And on birch street the leaves on the trees
Laugh but look like they're sighing

I want to know
Where you think you are going
And god help your soul
If that's what you believe
For a couplet I sold
What was left of my integrity
And I don't have goals

But I will have an apartment
In a city full of people
And a subtle, sinking feeling
We're all equals

I wouldn't expect to hear those words from you
So I bid a fond farewell with this excuse

I want to know what I don't know
I want to know what no one knows
I'll learn to swim so I will float

Or I will tread water and gracelessly sink below
Like death is a puzzle and I learned where the pieces all go

So on every goddamn cloudy night through every eye of every satellite
I am foaming at the mouth
And with every stone you people throw at bleeding hearts and broken bones
I am laughing
And that war we'll one day have to fight is as visceral as a synapse fired
I am waiting
I shook the hand of father time I spit in my own and I looked him in the eye
I am not sorry

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