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that's a weird way to disappear. smoking at the door standing at the gate. something someone said, i can't relate.
i followed you way down south. a story about a wolf and a brother beside you. the fire was ticking in the stove. someone passing by out on the road. not an enemy. maybe suffering.
when i was i went 16 for a drive under a storm that was paralyzed. i took a step back at the sight of it (i was nodding out in a chair by the side of it). i stood in the dark with headlights blazing. dust was rising, maybe rain was falling. that's when i knew i'd found it, but i didn't know anything about it.
tied down in the bed of a truck. riding with my head on fire. if it's an enemy, then you suffer it.
when i was 19 i was so stupid. hungry in an alien language. i could've seen for half the moonlight, but i couldn't see your ankles in the tall grass. i'd listen for commands and wait around. shout back at the hallway just to hear the sound. sometimes in the window by the lamplight, you still come around.
(took a walk on the pier in the dead dark middle of the night, the waves/boats still crawling. something in me was sounding the alarm. couldn't take my eyes off the red sky. found a parking ticket on the sidewalk,.memorized the name and then forgot it. heard the creaking of the great black jawbone falling back into the pit where it came from.)
i knew what i was going to do. did it and it was done, the thing was through. for a while i had a dream: running around in the sun. it's in the color of the blood. you could've found it in a thunder storm. i had it for a while and then i crossed the river and left.
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2. |
wastoids
04:43
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he came out alive but we all knew something was wrong. i could've told you. i wonder what was calling out so loud, saying 'i know you hear me. come and find me, but come alone.'
his mom was alive but only barely. she stayed in her room smoking winstons. he was a junky and he didn't hide it. he carried a briefcase, but what was inside it. (i would've tried it)
grinding my teeth in the blue light.
there's a toll you've got to pay at midnight.
so i slowly roll my window down and keep my cool.
a handful of change, and then i'm free.
but i had to stall the car when i tried to leave.
feeling alright but i'm always alone. what can i say? i don't want to regret it. i took a slow walk down to the river to clear my head and have a drink there. nobody tells you what to expect. it's like that kid said: it's relentless and you can't stop it.
you are my deadly companion.
turning your gears with abandon.
as i was waiting to order a drink, i saw you standing next to me.
i spit out the words and lost my nerve.
then she got drunk with some other asshole.
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3. |
hotel room
02:41
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hanging around the edge of town. something in the light is glitching out. it makes me feel better, light as a feather. when i was a kid, i wanted out. i had some shit i had to think about. a jagged line inside of my mind.
she goes away. out of sight today.
then what do i know? i've driven all around with a different shadow or a different sound.
walking around and sitting back down. everything was fine and the stars were out. but i was afraid of what i should say. but nobody heard and what did i learn? asleep on the beach as the tide turned. i think i'll stop looking but maybe i shouldn't.
i believe you, what you say that you found.
i want to go with you, and we'll tear up the ground.
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i came in to see the damage, sadder than i was when i was up on the ladder. someone's looking for copper in the walls. looks like they took an axe to the drywall.
i think it feels ominous starting a trip under a bloodthirsty moon like you.
and even in the dead of the winter, you're shaking hands with the darkness. it's the desolate heat and the southern humidity. it's kind of a paradox and kind of a memory. she took me for a ride to the tower. we drank in the dark for an hour. i'm confessing a crime in a well-lit office, or i'm sitting by a shadow on a hillside.
nobody wants to be outside in acid rain. it would burn your skin off.
(it was something about a dream where we went to an island. i remember fog in the trees and you smiling. i felt like a fool when you said 'let's make a rule - we'd better keep our distance.' i heard what you said through the vines and the whiskey. you put your hand on my heart and said 'this is twisted.' out there in the shadows on the property line, i stumbled out to the main road. the lonesome foghorn blows, and i know the slow motion terror's decided. will you come to my party?
did you test the road? i took it slow about an hour ago and i saw that same dumb dog chasing me down to the end of its rope. when you disappear and it's all emptiness in here: recreate the hour. is it the worst? is it what i fear?
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5. |
mondegreen
04:14
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was it a mondegreen? they called it eagle day/evil day. it makes a lot of sense either way; so many people falling down to pray. i had a dream a long time ago: her dress was all soaked in his blood. a voice was coming through in stereo, saying 'the enemy's as good as done.'
what are we asking for? is it ancient? is it atavistic? something's written on the mirror in lipstick. what does it say? i'm getting evicted. but like i thought a few days ago: what's the real sum? gallons of blood. when the battle plays in stereo, saying 'it's over but it's never done.' somebody wrote a long time ago, 'her dress was all soaked in his blood.' a voice was coming through in stereo, saying 'it's over but it can't be won.'
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6. |
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i never noticed the glare in the landing. i am afraid and you are a kid, we're both kids. til the flashlight beam put blood to the language, face to the nameless. we're all alone out here anyway.
i woke up feeling delirious. turn on the radio. make up a nightmare for every direction. will the jungle swallow me? what about the darkness? maybe the earthquake. maybe the fire where i lit it, the place where i'm sitting in the daylight.
i had my eyes closed or i looked away. they say you don't hear it, not til it's way too late. then thunder from under the mountain shredded the airwaves. blades of grass up through somebody's eyesocket. there's no answer, just a swamp and the sun on the trail. i'll think about a girl in the backseat. my ear to the ground in the midwest.
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7. |
going, gone
05:56
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take the dog down to the water. it got so quiet after the thunder. nobody knows: where did you come from? hesitant eye watching the window.
it's getting so hard to hear you, and i'm afraid of losing altitude.
who could know? going, gone.
take your hand out from under the fire. hold it up: look close at the wiring. found an old drawing of a spider. the window is open; i have an escape now.
who should know? going, gone.
(someone's out screaming at the street in the rain. i remember staring like a cat at the flame. i wanted to say that i can relate.
the cop at the liquor store said 'nowhere/know where to run.' i couldn't catch his meaning, but he's somebody's son. i wanted to say, 'he's getting away.'
it's only castles burning. it's an island estate. it's hidden in a tomb and you'll forget it someday. it felt so good to walk in the woods.)
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8. |
memory hole
02:27
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who is standing at the gate? do you see that? who am i talking to? i'm losing my mind. it's 2:45 in the morning. i'm lying here awake with a burning question.
then i had a dream: the silver city on the water. i want to forget your name, want to get away, want to be alone. memory hole, take this creature with you to the furnace. that is one way to escape to another place where i can be alone.
i know it hurts bad, you don't want to wake up. i know that it's heavy and you want it to stop. so do i.
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9. |
vacant lot
04:22
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i was thinking some kind of change was overdue. i sent a letter to another city, then went for coffee where my sister waited tables, and i sat and read the magazine, and i dreamed about somehow getting out. the gravel road it's down in some backwater town.
suddenly beneath the canopy, and wait until you finish serving drinks. it's a long walk, i'm feeling so exposed. but nothing's better than moonlight. i met you down at the end of the boulevard. we walked on the cliff, leaned into the wind, but i was a little kid and i didn't know the code.
where are those hickory sticks? i think, man, any way you figure it i'm going to step across. and if you follow me into the trees, i'll get you the money or i'll let you press rewind. you've been unkind and hidden behind the enemy lines.
(i can't hang out with anyone without wishing i was somebody else. later when i'm walking home i think i see you driving it out in the night.
what is it like in the dark of the cockpit? do you smoke cigarettes? tell me about what ails you and i'll keep an eye on the thermostat
take the next exit. this place looks open. we need something to pass the time. feed me the soul of every vacant lot. are those your red eyes in the crowd?)
-i'm a damn good liar-
suddenly we're up the stairs and i say, 'that's a lot of books.' then we're in the bedroom. it's a long walk, i'm feeling so exposed. but nothing's better than moonlight. i shot you down from over the boulevard. got back on my bike, rode into the night, out under the streetlamp light. but i barely even tried, so now i'm losing it. tripping in the dark. don't know how to start taking somebody's brain apart, if that's even in the cards.
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10. |
storm cellar
04:51
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i didn't know what i was facing when i was living in the basement, watching everybody sleep in the rear view mirror. i didn't know what i was fleeing. i didn't care that i was freezing. the storm clouds piled high on the western sky.
something's in the woods outside of town. finding bones on the side of the trail. they're all just waiting it out in the storm cellar.
i remember knowing before anyone else. felt like i was right. turns out no one knows the ugliest part of a human heart.
i know a place in the graveyard that feels a lot like a train car. i get a drink and watch the electric light. i'm out looking for the necromancer, but there are questions orphaned of answers. an empty bottle in the moonlight.
i remember finding the ashes to cross. my foolish thoughts. turns out i was wrong: there's definitely sorcery in the song.
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dark river California
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