The Singer Addresses His Audience

We know, we know we belong to ya. We know you built your lives around us. And would we change? We had to change some. We know, we know we belong to ya. We know you threw your arms around us in the hopes we wouldn’t change but we had to change some. You know, to belong to you.

We’re aware that you cut your hair in the style that our drummer wore in the video but with fame came a mounting claim for the evermore. You know. So when your bridal processional is a televised confessional to the benefits of Axe Shampoo, you know we did it for you. We did it all for you.

So we know, we know we belong to ya. We know you built your lives around us. But we had to change some. You know to belong to you.

Cavalry Captain

I am the cavalry captain. I am the remedy to your heart. I am the common collective. I am imprinted upon your stars.

And when you shine, shine your eyes, looking lost, looking bright, we’ll away on the light brigade. And if only for a second, if only for a time, and if only for a second, we’ll be alive.

I am the cavalry captain. I am the remedy to your heart. I am the common collective. I am imprinted upon your stars.

There is a world. There is a time. Looking calm, looking kind. We’ll away at the break of day and if only for a second, if only for a time, if only for a second, we’ll be alive.

Philomena

O Philomena, you in a tawdry gown, lean to your window, let slip a ribbon down. A cure to your boredom if only you’d let me go down.

Long summer days can lead to lazy vices. Boys all at idle left to their own devices. Open up your linen lap and let me go down.

All that I wanted in the world was just to live to see a naked girl but I found I quickly bored. I wanted more. I wanted more. So I’ll be your candle, I’ll be your statuette. I’ll be your lashing loop of leatherette. O Philomena, if only you’d let me go down.

Make You Better

I want you, thin fingers. I wanted you, thin fingernails. And when you bend backwards I wanted you, I needed you to make me better.

I loved you in springtime. I lost you when summer came. And when you pulled backwards, I wanted you, I needed to make me better.

But we’re not so starry eyed anymore like the perfect paramour you were in your letters. Won’t it all just come around and make you, let it all unbreak you to the day you met her. But did it make you better? Did it make you better?

I sung you, your twinges. I suffered you, your tattle-tales. And when you broke sideways I wanted you, I needed you to make me better.

And all I wanted was a sliver to call mine. All I wanted was a shimmer of your shine to make me bright.

Lake Song

Down by the lake we were overturning pebbles and upending all the animals alight and I took a drag from your cigarette and pinched it ‘tween my finger and my thumbs till it had died.

And the sun burned low on the radio.

Say that you will. Say you will or will you won’t or you whatever you prevaricate your whole life, don’t you? This much I can say: I would’ve waited till the oceans fell away and all the sunken cities would reveal themselves to you.

But you won’t will you? Because you never do. And the sun burned through, sweet as honeydew.

And I, seventeen and terminally fey, I wrote it down and threw it all away and never gave a thought to what I’d paid. And you, all sibylline, reclining in your pew, you tattered me, you tethered me to you. The things you would and the things you wouldn’t do. To tell the truth, I never had a clue.

Now we arise to curse those young suburban villains and their ill-begotten children from the lawn. Come to me now and on this station wagon window set the ghosts of your two footprints that they might haunt me when you’re gone.

And when the light broke dawn, you were forever gone. But I remember you: you were full, you were full and sweet as honeydew.

Till the Water’s All Long Gone

They came down from the mountain. They’d strayed too long from the fountain. And all the while they longed for us.

But I won’t betray our water till the water’s all long gone.

And you, my sweet flower, how you grew more sweet by the hour. And loathe was I to lose you.

My tender rose, my limber rose, my slender loping daughter. My tender rose, my slender rose, my limber loping daughter. But my daughter’s long, long gone.

They came down from the mountain. They’d strayed too long from the fountain. But O my girl, O my love I’ve lost you.

But I won’t betray our water till the water’s all long gone.

The Wrong Year

Gray Jane was a riverchild, born down by the river wild. Said, “Hey, what I wanna be nobody’s gonna intervene.”

And she wants you but you won’t do. And it won’t leave you alone. And the rain falls on the wrong year and it won’t leave you alone, it won’t leave you alone.

Could be that he’s into you, could be that the obverse is true. Struck down as a summerchild, ten steps just to run a mile.

And he wants you, but you won’t do. And it won’t leave you alone. And the rain falls on the wrong year and it won’t leave you alone, it won’t leave you alone.

Spirit’s willing, flesh is getting bored. Speakers blaring out some long forgotten chord, some misbegotten, long forgotten chord.

Sing me some eidolon and I’ll sleep all the winter long. Till then I can only be – nobody’s gonna intervene.

Carolina Low

I am a boy from the high country and I got a little love for the offering. I come down from the mountain, I bow to the sea. And Carolina low I will carry thee.

Gonna take you up, gonna take you round. But O your poor little pant legs, all dragging down. Did you crack your lip? Did you skin your knee? Carolina low I will carry thee.

What is sealed with a handshake is spoiled with a kiss. You got a ugly little mouth, boy, and it’s come to this. I’m bound for the hilltop. Gonna make it bleed. And Carolina low I will carry thee.

I am a boy from the high country and I got a little love for the offering.

Better Not Wake the Baby

Kick a hole in the hallway wall, singing like a painted lady. Use your skull like a cannonball but it better not wake the baby.

How long will this go on? How long indeed? Bang your drum till the money’s all gone but it better not wake the baby.

Make your moan of your lot in life. Spit your mind half-crazy. Gouge your eyes with a butter knife but it better not wake the baby.

How long will this go on? How long indeed? Bang your drum till the money’s all gone but it better not wake the baby.

Drown yourself in crocodile tears. Curse the god what made ye. Pine away for your banner years but it better not wake the baby.

How long will this go on? How long indeed? Bang your drum till the money’s all gone but it better not wake the baby.

Anti-Summersong

Here now, long gone, three freaks in a Vanagon. Went to the river but the river got drowned. All the good people were hangin’ around.

Too little, too late. Everybody gotta medicate through the winter when the winter comes down or this city comes a hanging ground.

But I’m not going on just to sing another summersong. So long, farewell. I’m not going on just sing another singalong suicide song. So long, farewell.

(Don’t everybody fall all over themselves.)

Easy Come, Easy Go

Limber Jack, he landed on his back. He was betting on the netting when the rigging went slack. It was a moonless night, the stars a limning light. She was leering in the mirror when the road it broke right.

‘Cause you never really know when the whistle’s gonna blow. You never really know. Easy come and easy go.

He was a stand-up gent, but no one knew his bent and all the little bones that he hid in his vents. She was the come-on queen, a jewel on the scene. When they found her in the shower she’d been gone for seven weeks.

‘Cause you never really know when the whistle’s gonna blow. You never really know. Easy come and easy go.

Limber Jack, his name is on the plaque. His mother is another who will never get him back.

Mistral

So we already wrecked the rental car and I’ve already lost my way. My feet entombed in this tourist bar for a day anyway. So lay me out on the cobblestones and unfurl this aching jib. The streets all built on ancient bones and the crib of the ribs.

Won’t the mistral blow it all away?

So it’s me and you and the baby boy and a fourth to share the weight. We’re eking out a little joy from what awaits back in the states.

Won’t the mistral blow it all away?

12/17/12

What a gift, what a gift has been given me, here with my heart so whole while others may be grieving. To think of their grieving!

And O my boy, don’t you know you are dear to me. You are the breath of life and a light upon the water. Light upon water.

And O my love, if you only knew how I longed for you, how I waste my days wishing you would come around. Just to have you around.

And what a dear, what a sweet little baby, this cannonball in the bosom of your belly. Just a kick in your belly.

And O my god, what a world you have made here. What a terrible world, what a beautiful world. What a world you have made here.

A Beginning Song

Let’s commence to coordinate our sights. Get ’em square to rights. Get them square to rights. Condescend to calm this riot in your mind. Find yourself in time. Find yourself in time.

And I am waiting, should I be waiting? I am wanting, should I be wanting? When all around me, when all around me…

Document the world inside your skin, the tenor of your shins, the timbre of your limbs. Now commence to kick each brick apart to center on your heart. Starting with your heart, bright heart.

And I am waiting, should I be waiting? I am wanting, should I be wanting? And I am hopeful, should I be hopeful? When all around me, when all around me

Is the sunlight
Is the shadows
Is the quiet
Is the work
Is the beating heart
Is the ocean
Is the boys
Is you, my sweet love
O my love
And the light bright light and the light bright light bright light bright light

It’s all around me.

It’s all around me.