america’s a blinding place for nightlife. the highlights: america’s a binding place and i might tangle you in your own fists like two hundred feet of blank tape in a tree. and i might pound you, put it on you like a sweater with the sleeve holes sewed shut when you’re trying to swim. and i might pound you put it on you politely hand you an anvil when you’re trying to swim. and i might treat you like a wall i walk by with my headphones on and my eyes all gone. or polish you, shine your ego like windexing a mirror.
Some days I get to sitting around and thinking about all the things this town is lacking as far as general necessities go, like an actual airport or underground pipelines that don’t start runnin’ kind of funky in the winter.
Where ever we go, we’ll never be lost Some follow the compass rose, some follow the cross Me, I follow roads compulsively, till sirens call me off Then I wander, eyes closed, following songs This rivers a hymnal, the leaves are applause The trees sing in whispers, with the wind pulling their arms Hold still, and listen, your hand on my heart If you need them, these beacons will lead you back to the start Yup No ax has seen these woods since before your father stood The path is beaten good from the feet of all who wandered through it Old growth, holds hope, let the brambles scrape your skin Scars are storybooks, the blood will wash away your sins Now let that sun slip, then let that moon rise Follow in no footsteps, listen for the true guides Woods will play tricks upon pretty blue eyes Is that glimmer the river, or your village finally brought back to life?