Oct 2013
"God is a place you will wait for the rest of your life."
In all my dreams you're drinking Nick Drake's pink moon out of a red and white straw
Standing all alone in a black coat
Sinking into secret places where no one else dared go
And laughing; I love you when you're laughing
You're always singing my favorite songs
Where we were young, and laid awake through howls
In these spaces, I've returned
Trying to feel how it felt, is supposed to feel
In all my dreams there are greasy hands and frozen feet
Tiny tanks pushing through snow and ice
Painting all the walls blue and gray and black
******* and hands and eyes shut tight
I drive through Nebraska and Wyoming and West Texas
I drive through meadows of dead grass and think
Twenty-one on midnight and hiding in a tall booth in a dark bar in a cold place
Home, because I was with you
In all my dreams I am reaching out and up
Seeking earth takeaway memories
Lifting skinny fists, bare, raising my arms in surrender
Through the mystic on all the lighthouse adventures in the world
Tonight your ghost asks my ghost in earnest:
"How strange *is it to be anything at all?"
In all my dreams you're drinking Nick Drake's pink moon out of a red and white straw
Standing all alone in a black coat
Sinking into secret places where no one else dared go
And laughing; I love you when you're laughing
You're always singing my favorite songs
Where we were young, and laid awake through howls
In these spaces, I've returned
Trying to feel how it felt, is supposed to feel
In all my dreams there are greasy hands and frozen feet
Tiny tanks pushing through snow and ice
Painting all the walls blue and gray and black
******* and hands and eyes shut tight
I drive through Nebraska and Wyoming and West Texas
I drive through meadows of dead grass and think
Twenty-one on midnight and hiding in a tall booth in a dark bar in a cold place
Home, because I was with you
In all my dreams I am reaching out and up
Seeking earth takeaway memories
Lifting skinny fists, bare, raising my arms in surrender
Through the mystic on all the lighthouse adventures in the world
Tonight your ghost asks my ghost in earnest:
"How strange *is it to be anything at all?"
