Human

You see that light in me, so you lick your thumb and put that flickering out
I can't explain your game, but I won't succumb I'll bear my resilient doubt

More than me, more than I wanted to be
More than you, more than I wanted you to

When I'm right he writes me the coldest letter, inkwell of salted blood
So what am I some sighing vapid apparition, I'll show him what I'm made of

More than me, more than I wanted to be
More than you, more than I wanted you to

Legendary Mistake

Just another legendary mistake, the kind of move that's got an edge to it. I was tearing out the patchwork and I knew it. Luminous in your life design, you cut a thrilling tapestry. Some sleeping muse is at your spindle, she's got a demon in her dream. 

Ooh, I flew too close to the sun. I plunged into a misty world of visions measured by tongues and fingertips. 

I was just a snag in the golden thread, somebody ought to pull me loose. I was tied up in the myth I made, knotted up in you. 

Ooh, I flew too close to the sun. I plunged into a misty world of visions measured by tongues and fingertips. 

Now that I see you from worlds away, your notions blend into a whole. While the colours resonate so deep, there's not a shade of me. 

Ooh, I flew too close to the sun. I plunged into a misty world of visions measured by tongues and fingers.

Unknown

I've seen you draw the dark up around you like a dying day. I'm continually impressed with your rational poison intake. Every evening you come with cold hands to my side. How can I hold a gathering shadow? You cover my mind. 

But I've heard a bright voice burn out of your mouth like a rising sun. I've seen you give and give away every peace until you had none. When the light gives up its graces, you fill up with smoke. How can I hold each one of your faces? Which ones do I know? 

I can taste your self-effacement on the edge of your lips, the cracks of your grin. You're a good man, growing small. You let the waste land move right in. In a world of aberrations, you stand alone. On the edge of isolation and the unknown.

Bad News

Bad News hangs around my head
like this morning’s papers and some poor man’s death.
He laid down on neither side of the tracks.
Damn the fool or damn the devil on his back.

black flies buzzing around my ears.
I’m lucky being in the company
of summer souls, sunlight and the living.
This trepidatious life is short and unforgiving

Boring men stand beside their cars
they speak of counting coins instead of stars  
and sunset rippling with twilight.
Damn the fools that tie the blinders on their own eyes

Strange new bird song up this new tree
I’m lucky hearing her, I’m blessed to be
scratching out a simple song with my hand.
If you can hear this I hope that you understand.

Good Bird

You were beside me everyday
But like a good bird, you flew away
To someone else's sky

She took your picture when you arrived
For you're finer than a Bird of Paradise
And she hung you up on her wall

That image found me in my morning bed
And I held you in my hand for the first time since you left

I'm no stranger to sky blue
When we were together, lord we flew
To a new high

There's something in the body that brings us home
Home to each other when we are alone
You'd be a fool to fight it

Your image finds me in and out of dreams
I build a house of memory, and your the one singing in the beams
Like a good bird

Last Night

It's so quiet - the rain has finally stopped. Every window washed, every grain of grit run clean off the sidewalk. 

In the blue twilight, the shadows flatten out. They've been hanging round the door all day with the stray walking off with your last cigarette in his mouth. 

Last night I turned over on my side, and eye to eye, said, "you are a new man to me now."

Oh My Old Friend

Some things come and some things go. Some things move so slowly that you don't even know that you don't even notice at all, like a rock in the river or a crack in the wall. But the plaster is crumbling, and I'm humbled to see oh, any sign at all, like a bird on the wing or a drift in the breeze, an instance of motion. Just the slightest degree: a shift in my blood, or one word from this body to tell me what I already see. 

Some things work and some things don't. So how could you ask this sinking ship to float? But please don't send me away. I ain't got no place to go, but the night and the noise -- of trains on their tracks and planes passing over. Their clatter and roar can't carry me anymore. 

Some things come and some things go. Ain't that always the trouble with the words that stick in your throat? They're not coming out quite like they could. They hide in the silence of a long last look. And oh my old friend, I misunderstood you; I misunderstood.