Most times I find myself lost
Lost in times, places,
Held captive in my thoughts
It's ok it's ok it's ok
The grass helps me forget
As I lay absorbed in its warmth.
There is smoke in the distance,
Or is it right next to me?
I don't know anymore
Nor do I care
I just let myself go off most times
I love to go off most times,
As much as I loved my family
Who stood by my side 'til their end.
My dear sister was quite the artist
Quite the artist indeed
She had this distinct flight in her work,
Or was it flow?
I'm getting lost again.
These colors they did cling to each other
As if they've known each other since long ago.
I would get lost in these paintings
And would remember the times I saw these colors,
Like the blue in the bay
Protected by the army,
Like the brown windmill
That I climbed with my best friend,
**** I forgot he was there with me,
Like the yellow in my dog's eyes
When she and I saw a man burn to death.
It's too bad Auntie hid those paintings
Beyond the basement.
My father died in the Korean War,
Oh captain, my captain
You failed to return
But don't fret
I raised my flag for you this morning
And every morning,
Waiting for your safe return.
You had dark eyes, right?
Yes, you had to have dark eyes
Only dark men have dark eyes, but
You did it for a good cause dear father
And for your country you swam on that iron boat
And died just like your sweet daughter:
Hanging yourself because you could not find success with your art.
Wait, that's not right.
Your art was success, Sun Tzu would be proud
Of your noble smooth sacrifice,
All the while taking on the pitter-patter of rain.
My mother died just now,
Yeah just now in front of my eyes.
It's weird to see her like this
All old, cold, and stiff.
Maybe she's nervous, don't know why
She's going to a good place.
Might just be the rigor mortis kicking in,
My mother was always a speedy one
Never skipping a beat
Or strum
Or note.
Funny for her to be sitting
Directing phone calls
Which would end up being lost anyway
Because no one knew how to talk back then,
Not after the Korean War.
There was one song my mom would sing,
Not sing actually just hum
I don't know what song it was
I believed she made it up,
Which was so brilliant.
Sometimes I would close my eyes
(Like I'm doing right now)
And insert words into my mother's song.
I would sing things like:
How long are you gonna let it rain
Shifting through the tides of pain
You lost yourself for good this time
Dear boy you got yourself a rhyme.
That's what music sounded like to me back then,
Hell it still does.
Guess that means I'm still lost then, huh?