luxury

when i was younger, i had the luxury of looking up to those i didn't know were also afraid

Faster song

Like talking heads or rubblebucket

Face up dirty
See with not unfriendly eyes
Am I resting or stealing time

Worn and broken
The lines between the roads
And my heart and limbs are mine

Find a lifestyle
Open my mind and choose
Pick myself up and climb

This man was great

"when he was taken back, his name was Rashamae

Soon to be known by many other names, he slowly found his way

Doing what all he knew, he saved a village from demise

His methods not unwise, he fed and housed all over many days

The people would say, rashamae, rashamae, rashamae

Not as old as you would think, his saving days are done

Retired at only 35, living for time and sun.

Ask him for his story, he will point to the sign

"climb the hill to see the story, slide the path to learn why"

The people would pray to rashamae, rashamae, rashamae

You climb the hill, the brown under green and tan

To the very top, a cliff over rocks below

The building still stands, a monument to the man

Made of wood and cloth that used to flow

The people would stay for rashamae, rashamae, rashamae

inside is cluttered but empty all the same

Once so finished, plaster and paint on steel

But now the color has faded, recently old

Peaceful, a plastic house on a hill so real

On the plague, it reads rashamae, rashamae, rashamae

Breathe in the sea air, hear the wind,

feel the crunch of paint chips under your shoe

Turn back, away from the recent falseness of this place

You sit and slide down the path, and the hill sings...

This man was a good man
He helped all his neighbours
Built a church and a hospital
And fed all the stray dogs and cats
He climbed this hill each day
To see the future in the crashing waves
This was how he saved our town

This hill is a testament
To climb it is naive
The hut on top is empty now
Except for tourists and thrill seekers
The cliff it caps is beautiful only
Hinting of danger

The plastic wood of the hut designed to look old,
But the finish has worn away,
Eventually trued the lie

If you ride the hill, it will sing you its song
And the hill sings...

This man was a good man
He helped all his neighbours
Built a church and a hospital
And fed all the stray dogs and cats
He climbed this hill each day
To see the future in the crashing waves
This was how he saved our town

Once I climbed the hill myself, and the conflict was so wild
Such a man like never lived, except he still hung out around town
Retired from his post as savior, his debt so much more than paid
He'll laugh if you ask for his story, the story is in the hill's path

This look

This look you give me
crouching and waiting
for only a moment
you're anticipating

your glasses and haircut
betray your composure
it's all in slow motion
this small taste of closure

I look at the layout
you look at the future
crouching and waiting
away from computers

locked on my actions
without any pressure
this look that you give me
inspires this letter

(triplety feel over 120ish 4/4 pulse, maybe accellerating, but capturing a feeling of being frozen in time. maybe stuttering repeating 8ths with this?) (maybe another bit about the childrens' museum and kaleidoscope installation)

This life / do it like it is your job

this life, do it like it's all you have

this life, do it like it's your job

it tests you like a wa-ter fall

don't make it to the top

this life, tak-ing all the ea-sy roads

rest e-nough in your bed/ at least try to make it to your bed/try making it to your bed

all it takes make it work/ (you) don't get it, what it takes

state se-cret mon-o/ pair / don't forget who you are

do it like it is your job
make a face, move your hips
don't try to make it to the top
feel it right, move your lips

make your friends all do it too
show them how, don't be scared
yellow green and red and blue
art and dance, mono/pair

lose your footing and your hat
they're not real, it's your life
find out what you're getting at
cut a rug, like a knife

never over, never gone
never there, everywhere
anything can turn you on
honey glasses, inner bear

I know the rest is gone

Take the time to read, fill my life with art again.
Really let it be and understand that I have been
scared of the life I want, terrified of all my dreams
Spiteful toward the ones I love
tell myself it seems fine for now

This is my best, all that I have
anything more would break me down
and after finding how I hurt myself
I think I know how I hurt your heart

I know the rest is gone
but what about these cupboards

Self-Separation Anxiety

How am I not myself? Like Jude and Dustin
Where did I lose myself? you lose yourself like Robin
I am always me, so is there anything to recover?
I can't get back what I have lost, so I will have to start again
A new direction is the only way
May join the circus like I always dreamed

I'm scared of everything
I don't trust any part of the world
Only I can trust if I want to feel it, If I want to know it
and without my self, there is no I to trust you
Somehow I can still be scared without having an I to be afraid
by my separated I can still have fear

My hands are still here, dumb and duller
My spine, it still works, stiff and twisted
My legs, they still move, with pain and weakness
My mind, it still makes, slow and fearful

This is really too much work
I can't believe I fell so far
I get so anxious at the thought
of really finding out what I and I are

I color in your eye

Choosing finer things for life than diving off the cliff at night
and this is how you choose

angling and moving in, the posturing with all things light
and this is how you lose

fill the circle black and white and make a wish with all your might
but still you are confused

I color in your eye, a solid dot black like the sky tonight
and this is how I choose

Rest rest rest, and go go go, faster faster, and you find that
sometimes things are best kept slow

Test connection, truth convection, people never really mind
if you get it wrong, you know

Next I’m ready with a pen, but not a pad to lay the line
to record your brow and nose

I did my best, we both showed up, stood and sat and drank the wine
the conversation ebbed and flowed

I color in your eye, the right and not the left, I hope that’s fine
I’ll fill the left at my last show