"A LOVE SONG AND A DRUM MACHINE"

Just Smile and Play Along

So sew it up and note the time. The loose ends meet, the couplets rhyme. A stack of applications on your nightstand, not exactly as you planned. I know that look upon your face, the mirror in your eye. I know you lie awake at night, feel his breath on you and wonder why.

You wake up to the news at noon, or you wake up to the afternoon chat shows. The degree hangs on the wall of the apartment that's too small to hold the couch you hauled all the way from Pittsburgh and then left on the curb.

Now your friends don't bother calling you. The moment they would have to talk to him to get to you is so much more than they can stand.

You wake up to the news at noon, or you wake up to the afternoon chat shows. Your brother said he'd visit you. Your cousin said she meant to. You're hoping they will do the work and you can just smile and play along.

 

Go Ahead

When your worthy words get worthless, become too complex to mean anything, and when your nimble tongue gets twisted, unwittingly wicked, and when your winning smiles fail, your fingers flail, with your oiseaux de guerre, we'll be made aware. We'll be made aware.

One year from here-- or maybe nine-- you will come to me crying, but never mind that now. You've got a death drive and a 4/4 beat, so try it! It's new because it's you. And who am I?

Brother, why in the heat of July do you wear your long sleeves? It never leaves you if you never let it go. You've got more than enough, but why are you compelled to share?

One year from here, or maybe nine, you will come to me crying, but never mind that now. You've got a death drive and a 4/4 beat, so try it! Tomorrow starts here as you finish your beer, so how can I say no? You've got a love song and a drum machine, so go ahead. It's new because it's you. And after all, who am I?

 

A Busy Street In The Rain

Flatly, through the muted light of rain, I walk through the gutter. And always underneath a wet wool coat, I wear my destination. It sounds like a simplification, but it grows like cancer in me. And I've chased down that alley before. And I know now that it doesn't lead anywhere. I never learn, I never learn, I never learn! "You're not telling anymore," he says. "You're not telling, if you ever were," he says. "You're not listening." Well, I guess you're right.

 

My Baby's Bored

My baby's bored.

He looks at me and shakes his head, pictures someone else instead, slowly says, "I'm going to bed." It makes me wish.

He does the best he can, I guess, the little things we can't afford. Somehow it means a little less because my baby's bored.

 

The Family Plot

The undertow, the dusk, the basement rat, the anaesthetist, the hunter's game. I am the family plot. The parole, the groom, the Heart of Hell.

 

"AVALANCHE KISS"

Love Can't Touch You Now

Some songs will hurt you, peel back your skin, your fingernails, like when you watch his patience run out. I was 13 looking for a priest with bad intentions. My motivation: ruin other people's dreams.

The roadway, the road kill is dying to ask you: which parts do you mean? The smirks and concern. It's not your mouth that works.

Black ice black ice black ice black ice black ice.

The roadway, the road kill is dying to ask you: which parts are truthful? The smirks and concern. It's not your mouth that works. And this is the reason, the judgment against me. In this case, this one straw all alone will break me. Love can't touch you now.

 

Cartoon Violence

Brained, a luckless guy, kind but out of time. Why would they try? Son, I do not like the look that's in your eye. Why won't you die? It all smacks me of cartoon violence. Three words were all it took you: BRING IT ON!!!

 

Untitled (Pearly)

I've been thinking about you. You've been thinking about yourself. I read a poem written by a fly on a windowsill. It said: Each day is another chance. It said: Each new day is another chance.

You've been thinking about yourself. I've been dreaming about it every night. And I have fewer words that cover you. And I have newer ways to envy you. Trust is a title. Faith is a word in a song. I want your heart to ache. I want your heart to break open.

Ah, ah! Maybe you know you're being lied to. Ah, ah! Maybe you think you know how it ends. Ah, ah! Maybe your checking account will not be overdrawn. Ah, ah! Maybe this will be enough. Maybe this will be enough...

Dawn at a public park. Someone you don't know leans into you. You're only young once. You're only young once for a very, very long time.

 

Quel age a-t-il?

You met a man last night. You got into his car. In the grey morning light, you wake up and you don't know where you are. A message at the tone from Carolyn back home. Her third call this week. Press 7 to delete. A message from your boss at your minimum wage job. "If you call in sick again, don't ever bother coming back in." Do you think that we don't know where all your money goes? Oh! Do you really think that we don't know?

You took a room by yourself. Your friends talk about your health, about your nose, about your brain, between your toes, about your veins. And when they ask about your dad, do you tell 'em where he's at? How he got there, what he's done, how he's not the only one?

All the questions that you dodge, all the borrowed stuff you lost, the merchandise you palm, the midnight calls to Mom. Until you decide it's done once for all, we've done what we can. We wait for the call.

 

You Made Me A Liar

Yesterday I spoke. I blathered on endlessly to anyone about anything. A stream of ugly words, a torrent that I thought was trust, that I thought was real. You made me a liar. You made my words lies. In the space of one night, you made me write things that people like me never should. Oh, have I misunderstood?

Every army needs a flag, a baffle or a word game, an excuse. I no longer speak my native tongue. I no longer recognize my home town, my home town. You made me a liar. You made my words lies. In the space of one night, you made me write things that people like me never should. Oh, have I misunderstood? Cast the pall away.

 

I Seldom Do

You were 16 and spinning drunk on the cool grass of your best friend's back yard. He was 19, a friend of a friend. He called you a 'tard. And I knew, lying next to you. I saw it before it began. I told you then; I'll tell you again: If you're looking for someone to hurt you, you're sure to find someone who'll hurt you.

So take him by the things God gave him and show him the door. You were hoping for some conversation and you knew that meant more. And I don't blame you. I could never blame. You're all meat. You're all smiles. You're in deep. And you're 1000 miles from me now.

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I think you're a normal man you has some pretty abnormal obsessions. I think you're an average man with some completely unrealistic ambitions. You've never seemed so far away. I've never been so far away.

 

Knitting Needle

In a Title 1 house behind the grocery store, past a chained-up dog and through a screened-in porch: you at age 14 when your mom was still alive. Rushing her to the hospital was how you learned to drive. And the doctor was so kind. And the doctor was so cold. One glance means too much to an overheated brain.

But a 14 year-old girl has a kind of strange worldview. You thought that he might leave his life and cling to you. He rearranged your body, and he rearranged your mind. You thought pop songs were poetry, and you thought neglect was kind.

And I love you now like I loved you then, when I waited with the car's engine running, and you and he were off behind the dumpster. He left you bleeding in the bath, left you unconscious with the water swirling red around you. You woke up mumbling some lines. All cliches and clumsy rhymes. We're all alone sometimes. We're all alone sometimes.

 

Dead Men (Epoxy)

You dreamt a baby carriage and a baby that didn't live. It looked like a black and ruffley octopus in a coffin. You broke a window, you placed the shards inside my heart so I could be free.

You're free like a life raft cut adrift. You're free like an actor with no script.

You did some things with him you didn't quite expect to, you didn't quite agree to. There is one thing you regret. A bloody clot, a pamphlet, the doctor made sure you were comfortable and free.

You're free like a life raft cut adrift. You're free like a play without a script. One hundred days left on your lease. One hundred ways to find your piece, when I will finally summon you back to me.

County jail, empty threats... County jail wasn't kind.

 

Sing For Yourself

The back seat cradled you like a sick bed, like your parent's foldout, like any other in the series of couches you stayed on that autumn. And I turned around the wrong way in the passengers seat when you when you when you..

You sang to yourself even though I was there. You never asked me; I never told you, but you knew. You want to cling to "maybe." Still, when he says "might be," it means "will." And once he's gone, baby, he's gone.

We scraped the tire against the curb and watched the sun rise over the suburbs. We weren't fooling anyone. You said, "No Mom, I don't want a window." You weren't fooling anyone.

You sang to yourself. You sing for yourself. You never asked me. I wouldn't have told you if you had. And I can still see your frozen breath in the air as you mount your stairs under the cold November light. Then I'm gone.

 

Your Comic Timing

A tangle, a hopeless know of twigs and bows, it winds and tightens through claws of crows, through all acquaintances yours and mine. Your comic timing is flawless.

Another botched attempt. Your friends all snicker, as we weave and dodge the lightning bolts. She said, "The wine is slow. The pills are quicker." A standing reservation at the clinic.

 

Costume

You don't act like you have ever seen a phone. You don't act like you want to make it home. You don't want to make the best of an awful situation, put a nasty reputation to rest. You live up to our lowest expectations, justify your lover's reservation, put our concern for you to test.

You told her that you loved her just to see how it would feel like trying on a uniform, but your voice gave you away. Every ugly every vicious work, you earned. You deserved every word.

 

 

"SOME HORRIBLE MIRACLE"

Dead Men (Epoxy)

You dreamt a baby carriage and a baby that didn't live. It looked like a black and ruffley octopus in a coffin. You broke a window, you placed the shards inside my heart so I could be free.

You're free like a life raft cut adrift. You're free like an actor with no script.

You did some things with him you didn't quite expect to, you didn't quite agree to. There is one thing you regret. A bloody clot, a pamphlet, the doctor made sure you were comfortable and free.

You're free like a life raft cut adrift. You're free like a play without a script. One hundred days left on your lease. One hundred ways to find your piece, when I will finally summon you back to me.

County jail, empty threats... County jail wasn't kind.

 

Cartoon Violence

Brained, a luckless guy, kind but out of time. Why would they try? Son, I do not like the look that's in your eye. Why won't you die? It all smacks me of cartoon violence. Three words were all it took you: BRING IT ON!!!

 

Count Flow

I have dropped my restraint like a towel to the tile floor where you lie like a bathmat. What did brother do? Do you even hear the words coming from your lips? Do you connect words and actions, your words, my actions? I think you know where I'm going with this...

Sheila, don't expect to like it. Don't expect to replay this in your mind. Sheila, someone was bound to love, just not the one you wanted to.

I will not waste our time by apologizing. I will invite your parents; I'll call 'em in.

There are no laws that cover this now.

 

Hold Back The Night

is a Sinead O'Connor cover.

 

"ENFORCER"

What've You Been Up To?

Filthy hands clutch filthy dolls in the apartment complex in Bridal Falls where your ex lives now. Muffled laughs seep through walls and family fights spill into the halls and you wonder how he puts up with it when he never could put up with even the smallest things when he was with you. Mmm, what has he been up to?

From the starting gun, he'd already won. He said, "When this ends, we will not be friends."

Guilt compounds over days, but a telephone works two ways so there's enough for you to share. You try not to care, but it tears at you that what he said was true. Mmm, what has he been up to?

From the starting gun, he'd already won. He said, "When this ends we will not be friends. In the evening light we listen to the cats fight. At the end of day when I know you want to turn away, baby, when this ends, we will not be friends." Mmm, what've you been up to?

 

Kevin Decline

Following a well-used path before easing beneath the waterline. We were following a well-used a path. We saw the signs, the rising waterline, our love in decline.

You've never been grabbed by the guts. You've never been kicked in the neck. Dragged out, and wrung out, and drugged up and knocked up, you never needed to. You never wanted to.

I ran into your best friends and, oh, the things they say about you now. And your long lost lovers, well, the adjectives, the gestures!

So sorry to fold so soon. It's so sad, but such a nice tune. I meant every word I said. I still do.

I know you; you are lost when you are found, so much more comfortable in frowns. You and I, we are lost when we are found. Comfortable in neglect, we will be comfortable in the ground. We are the joke that gets the biggest laugh.

You say you've got no kind words for anyone to their back or face to face. You say the cruelest things and all the while you wear the most endearing smile. Oh, is it any wonder they love you?

 

Sods on Sods

If I were sure of something, it would be this: you were made for better things, for better days. You've been made in better ways.

Ooo, I'd break every bone in my head to see you ok.

While you were dancing around your point, while you stalled, you gave up another plot. You gave up all your ground and you got nothing.

Ooo, my eyes are clear, my head is clear, my heart is clear. My heart is in your hands. But this is you in a corner; this is you in a mess. This is hardly even you at all.

It's the quiet after this that kills us, while you keep waiting for this to blow over.

 

The Groom

You make it a game where you are the tyrant. You rewrite the rules and you dictate the outcome. And I played along; I was the scoundrel. But I had a friend, an accomplice, a partner. There are chat shows full of people who would have your head. There's a man at a hotel desk who knows your name, knows your face.

Unrelatable, but irreplaceable, neighbor's couches, hemmed-in house. We watched as the skyline grew lighter and wider, my own executioner, my love.

 

Heko

Heko leaves his bed. He feels like wine. Heko walks the park to take his time. Heko leaves his name across the street. Heko leaves his dirty work to me.

Heko tells me off. Heko makes it easy for me. Heko leaves his name.

 

We Are Legion

Too often skewered, too often left, too often sick and bereft, too often confused and easily led. You too often left us for dead. But if we change in the new year, it's only because we have to. Given the choice, given the space, we never would. And if we say we will call you, you really shouldn't believe us. Given minds of our own, we never will.

So easily tossed, so easily lost, so easily taken to rut. So easily led around by our hearts, so easily dragged through the mud. (Oh, I know, I know.) But if we change in the new year, it's only because we have to. Give the choice, given the space, we never would. And if we say we will call you, you really shouldn't believe us. Given minds of our own, we never will.

Call us a legion if you have to, moving slowly toward the day, a day of confession, of reconciliation. Oh, do you believe in love? Because we do. We know if because we've seen it. (Seen it on billboards, seen it on the big screen, seen it on tv, seen it on greeting cards.)

 

Angel, Angel, Down We Go Together

is a Morrissey cover. Feel free to look up the lyrics.

 

Your Guess Is As Good As Mine

The evening light is gone. I turn on a sad, sad song. You left me waiting and I left you exasperated. I can't figure out where we went wrong.

Sometimes the phone rings; I think it's you. And I'm not exactly sure what to do. You hang up on the answering machine. I watch the phone's lights blink at me. I guess it's wasted effort.

This apartment's got me down. Your cat's hair still mats the ground. The bathroom still smells like hairspray. Do you know someone who needs a roommate? Maybe you could ask around.

 

In the Morning

In the morning, I'll be leaving before you wake. I will touch you on your closed eyes. You never asked if you could kiss me. You never asked to come with me. You never asked.