Crazy, crazy, crazy.
It is tiring trying to tackle this Q stuff,
From a first person perspective.
All this far out quasi side-history,
Drenched in hate of every kind.
Divisive as all hell,
A kind of game within itself
To distance us from each other more
Rather than bring us close.
Together we stand, divided we fall
In on ourselves as like
A house of cards

You've played me long enough
Round and round I went
But this record has reached its final groove
The tonearm has lifted and returned to its rest 
Now there is silence
No one is dancing
To the beat of your drum I will never dance again

web of lies to cover your web of desires
kept me in the dark away from the hearth of the fire
I gave you my heart and you threw it into the fire
blew our chances like a match, kept me as an option
So I let it rain hellfire and watched your towers fall
my pride made me destructive
I found solace in the destruction
you played me like a record but I am onto the next track
you sound like a broken record, need to sit with the lack
caught in the crossfire, I did everything right
but you manipulate me out of spite
want to have all the options, both pieces of cake
I cannot wait for you to meet the same fate.

needle idling
leading in
taking flight
across the groove
crackling into life
unchanged since 1889
black disc spinning
revealing secrets
from the darkness of vinyl
rumble of base
crash of high hat
lyrical weavings
entwined around
a density of sound
unmatched by digital cleanliness
the smell of aging cardboard
with artwork
fit for a gallery

I hold a record
That improves with every word
I leave behind me

He lifts the needle
from the old 5th Dimension record

(a person can only listen
to One Less Bell to Answer
so many times)

crawls into their bed
closes his eyes

and for the first time in many many nights,
he allows himself to dream.

Aerosmith on vinyl
Your hand on my throat
Listen to Toys In The Attic
I'll be your toy, Make me choke
Kiss me ever so softly
While your lips tell me jokes
Send chills down my spine
When I smell your cologne

Show me your favorite songs
Tell me your crazy stories
I want to know who you are
I just want you to adore me
Look through my eyes to my soul
Hands all over my body
Steal the air from my lungs
I swear you're killing me softly

paano ko nga ba kinolekta
ang mga ala-ala?
sa piraso ng bato?
sa piraso ng kahoy o halaman?
siguro sa simoy ng hangin
at lasa ng pagkain?
hindi naman kaya
sa kalampag ng mga musika?
wala nga sigurong batayan
wala ring katapusan ang pagkolekta
ng mga ala-ala
nakagawian ko na itong gawin
noon pa
kaya kahit na ubos na
ang mga bato kahoy at halaman
kahit na said na ang bakas
sa simoy ng hangin
at lahat ng pagkain
manahimik man ang indayog ng musika
hangga't hindi pa nauubos
ang mga naipong lakas
na magdadala ng mga lipas na gunita
ng galit at takot
ng lungkot at tuwa
makababalik pa rin ako
saan man magpunta

There’s no need to apologize to me
Just leave it be
There’s nothing to gain
But maybe a little pain
When you apologize for everything you do
So don’t you
Feel like you have to apologize to me

All my life
Even when there was no strife
I would apologize for everything
But be told something
Different every time
I ended up like a mime
Unable to say another word

Fly free like a bird
Say “sorry” so much and you’re just a broken record.

- Jay M
March 17th, 2020