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Jordan Rowan Jan 2017
Put your thoughts in a magic box
Press return and set them off
Do not expect them to be revised
Or to be read like they were in your mind
And when double vision comes into your eyes
Don't cry
They all just want to watch you die

The highest minds are on the bottom line
Running across your screen into the divine
Sweat drips onto the microphone
As the talking heads say you're not alone
For every point of view has its place to crawl to
Just like you
We all want love and nothing new

I wish I could meet my conscience then
When it was as clean as the state I'm in
And for every moment I've been alive
It fills up more with truth and lies
The Wings of the West fly high over the horsemen sky
And wave goodbye
To what we've built since we arrived
Jordan Rowan Jan 2017
Have you seen the target on my back?
Painted in red and black
Does it matter what you say
If you're a thousand miles away,
From this place
Where freedom rings louder than the hate it brings
Do you ever think about these things?

There's a line you can't cross
Even if it gets you off
Stand broken by the road
Where a lonesome river flows
And a wall grows
Signs that read "Leave your things,
And the songs you sing"
Do you ever think about these things?

I've seen the pages of God
Sweet Jesus and Allah
Whatever pages you may read
I don't care what you believe
We all bleed
We all need the little things
Do you ever think about these things?
Jordan Rowan Jan 2017
Let's put the Earth first for a change
Instead of these trivial sacred names
Things so easily rearranged
Like where they came from or who they blame
I don't think anyone is listening
If we continue to do the same
Worship something that never came
We'll end up drowning in acid rain
And wasting time by praying
It's just a voice inside your brain
They used to say that was insane
All we've got is now decaying
Let's put the Earth first for a change
Jordan Rowan Jan 2017
So when does the screen become my friend?
In the end, I'll send my heaven around the bend
For it to never come back again
And just as heaven is all pretend
So is this thing I call my friend

Back down, dear Preacher, from the children on high
It must be where the good go when they die
So why do we even try,
When forgiveness tastes like wine
Why not drink from 9 to 5?

So when does oral become the tradition of love?
I've heard it's only for those who like it rough
But god says it's too much
When even she hates to touch
The hands that call every bluff

The birth of a nation sounds like the fire from a gun
Bend down, you peasants, and kiss my golden sun
If I promise one to everyone
Then how would I buy kingdom come?
It will be fake for you but my money won

So when do I get to watch my life from the golden shore?
Can I skip over my family and just get channel 4?
That's when I found heaven in a *****
Some quiet dancer on the hardwood floor
Why is it still dark, when will there be more?
Jordan Rowan Jan 2017
Six strings fell from his fingers behind the Café Miel
He sang French ballads and smoked by the church bell
The gospel choir left and gave him a penny each
Each one a blessing towards redemption out of reach
The coffee-drinking couple kissed and passed him by
Both gave a look but neither looked him in the eye

He slept on rocks and was kept warm by the news
He dreamt of silk and of oceans painted blue
He begged for life and thought entirely of death
He gave his soul to love and music was his breath
He searched for purpose until the final day of rest
He was buried by the wind that carries his songs to the West
Jordan Rowan Nov 2016
Maybe a few miles down the road
We'll find something worth to know
A few stories to tell and things to show
But for now, we've got to go alone
The dust we gather along the way
Will be only ours to brush away
But when we're finally clean from the busy days
We'll find some time and things to say

Maybe down the street, under yellow lights
We'll meet and find an urge to fight
When the stars and our eyes are bright
We'll lose our minds and our sight
The hearts we **** up with stress
Will be washed by someone else's mess
By the common fear of death and success
We'll find some time and a place to rest
Jordan Rowan Nov 2016
About an hour on the road
And too many left to go
There's a few things still on my mind about something so long ago
Where by the shadow of the smoke
And the feeling of hope
There was story too short to be told

A few feet from the highway line
The trees are as dead as you and I
Put on your sunglass face to cover up those hidden eyes
Whenever it flashes back
It just makes me laugh
To think of how much I cried

Just one more cup of coffee for the road
So I can make it back to my home
Back to that cabin on the lake swallowed up by the undertow
And the shop is closed
No one knows
Where true love goes before it dies on the road
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