The Old Dog

Fairly well, I’m fairly well

I see you’re coming back into the yard

Holding hands, you lover’s do

I want to be near to you

Not much goes on beyond the yard

 

I had some dreams, some magnificent daydreams

But today they’re coming true

I dug up some bones

Under the rose garden after you left

I took my time, under the blue sky

I waited for the news

Every morning at four thrity-two

 

Can I lick your face?

Can I have a taste?

I’ve been long to play

I’ve so much energy!

 

I made up my own games

Mostly of chase

I was ready for the race

And in the neighborhood I heard every trace

But nothing really changed

But today, it’s a bright new day!

 

Can we take a walk?

Can we have a talk?

I see signs of your happiness, I settle on your cause

Designs of my loneliness, I settle for your cause

 

 

Death (optional)

In all these scenarios I’m afraid

I’m brave.  I’m heroic

And then the outside creeps

I think of the coffin, so narrow and dark

I think of the six feet of earth

so dense and suffocating

I think of the rain soaking that earth wet, crawling with worms

my body rotting in decay

Please don’t ever bury me

Please don’t ever bury

Me.

If you can’t find the time to burn me in cremation, then please

At least give my body to science, or feed it to wild beasts, or throw it to the fish or something!

But I can’t stand the thought of being buried.  It’s terrifying.

 

Everywhere I go I see the end

A plane crash diving through the air, nearly vertical looking out the window

Then back at the stranger next to me.

And I can only smile. 🙂

I dream of death but only in beautiful motion

It’s never laying in bed, ugly with sores or old worn stretched skin

It’s always tragically grand and I am always young

Perhaps it’s because I am young.

A fight to the death with my sworn enemy.

Some medieval joust

My maiden weeping as I lie limp in her arms on the evening grass

Or maybe a battle at sea screaming “Poseidon!”

or caught in a crossfire in a grove of old oak trees

I dream of death, but only in beautiful motion

And it’s always in slow motion.

The results are in

The highs do not come in ways

that people on the outside of you would believe

The highs do not occur in times you believe they should be

The highs do not come in forms of trophies or praise

They do not care about money, though you believed they had in the past

They come in the morning, after a dream

They come in randomness

You can make plans that center around the idea of finding or provoking the highs

But even then, those highs are fleeting

Finding the extreme highs only finds you to be more sensitive to the lows

The level is an illusion

Lose the level, there are no highs, there are no lows

It is all just presence

 

Did you ever catch yourself enjoying your anger?

or enjoying your sorrow?

Perhaps your sorrow was an illusion

Perhaps it was your natural way of delving into yourself for a while

And what did you do?

You resisted it

You tried to resist it

And in resisting it you fought it

And in fighting it you felt pain

 

You must let everything pass

The highs pass

The lows pass

They ebb and flow

Everyone is this way

Recognizing this in others will result in compassion

Compassion will result in trust

Trust will result in communication

 

Irises

You gave me a window

I look to see out

into the depths of your soul

you gave me soul

there was always a candle

with a flicker of life

we’re burning now and our flames have combined

oh we’re feeling fine

your irises are looking back at mine

we have cast away from the shore of a lonely gaze

there’s a paradigm shift here

which one of our heads

found comfort in fresh skin

how can it be wrong now?

when you are so close

So close that we quiver, like hammers to taught strings

Oh, what are these feelings!

Your irises are looking back at me

we have cast away from the shore of a lonely gaze

I just want to say

you tear me away from the mundane

we’re no longer strange

no longer strangers

you gave me a window

you got me in a Pollack

spread out on the floor

sail your broken glass

at my head

comeback with a kiss

Say I’m the one you miss

I free my fist

 

You got me in a Pollack

You got me in a Pollack

How did we become a car crash

You got me in a Pollack

This is no error we’d seen before

I search for a center in you

I suck for a center in you

I fuck for a center in you

but I don’t find it inside

You spread me too thin

Splatter more splatter on more splatter

Perpetual beginnings

Cover ups

You got me in a Pollack

 

you were my rhapsody bridebeen a long time

you were my rhapsody bride

been a long time since you crossed my mind

it’s been a long time, the tune went “baby! baby! you’re mine!”

The summertime air meets the carnival there in the darkness of all the Victorian flair of deville

She’s there still screaming “Te Quieres!” to all the boys in the vill

Out there the chimneys push soot in the air

While the townspeople speak of Voltaire and get drunk on the wine

Oh what a fine time

But you pass them by

You don’t think twice

She stradles up with her usual pomp and circumstance

She asks me to take a chance to dance with her under the tents

Ladies and gents on their fateful night Miss New Orleans had arrived

make our own music videos. post them to

make our own music videos.  post them to youtube

take advantage of usenet.com and other “newsgroups”

Develop our own website.  include files to let other people remix the music

make something that is interactive and interesting to people can take part

look at other websites that we like and copy

provide directions to all gigs

refer to page 22 in the book

electronic press kits

Call Mikki Ekko

Date with Nicole (Wed)

car insurance

call Dad on monday

research video people in nashville, contact Heypenny HIBTB

Talk to Mike Latterell about the set list

call Jerry Navarro

email Mark Knight about design for  record

call Eric harris about ballet idea

practice vocals everyday

email Mike Grimes

Organize lyrics in a binder to later post to a blog

workout

Honolulu

You have got some of my bones

And you’ve got one too Mr. Jones

Beautiful girls

Slumbering in solemn glory

From a snowy fringe

To a sunny surf

I thought I knew

Honolulu

Away, down in the south seas

Today through the market place

when I hear the drums calling outside my door

because we don’t really know

what’s under the volcano

I knew she knew

Honolulu

Soft atmosphere

My dreams are warmer here

She stood the edge

We don’t really know, what’s under the volcano

We don’t really know, what’s under the volcano

I knew she knew

Honolulu

she carried broken thingsclacking down the rugless hallgerman

she carried broken things

clacking down the rugless hall

german girls in 80’s clothes

fashionista riot gear

she is a generation behind

her generation sees every generation rewind

we carry broken things

We’re always fixing

always looking at the clock

waiting to get off

I’ve got an honest job

but I live for the weekend

I want to give you everything

but I’ve got a lot of broken things

I’m fixing

 

Revival

I want to be an old fashioned revival

lost and found, how shall I sing?

how I shall sing

la da da da da da

I came to the water holding onto my breath

when I went under

I went under

la da da  da da da

It’s easier now

It’s all in the hours

When the flesh grows weak

I’m a wearier man when I stand

alone

soaked to the bone

And shivering

will you revive me?

will you revive me?

In a revival