i was a string when the power
chords believed in parking
lots and the frets
of the lines of the spaces
we share were
shining white with
elegance and scary divisions
that the sacred
beach-sand-capo makes
us drive
at a higher pitch
than we're used to being .. But
in screaming
in an E scale
i talk to me with
fluorescent windstorms and ivory
singing about
gun-shy rain drops
and streaks of a raiments day.
it's love.. but
by the time i hear the clatter
of the distance that i scatter
every heart inside my chest that matters
wishes for a closer way.
and still the lovechords sing.
and still the lovechords sing.
and still the lovechords sing. and
be it why or
be it for or
be it by
the lack of more- she
is the only
star i ever see. it's love.
taking off your strings does not make you a real boy.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Surface
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