Westbound
Fly Over
I've been wading in too slow to wake
in a draining notion
tried to dry an ocean today
if I shake the ties my mind tried to make
so much for getting closer
no more closure of late
say the fade is over
fate: we all fly over
wish the passing slower
down the longest road I'm walking in my dreams
no one goes to follow
I've a comforting lead
on the side I rest among my memories
there was no devotion
in our frozen poses
Methodist Lift (lyrics by NM Kjeldsen)
I'm not the river floating by
can't go as far as it is wide
never be as deep as it is now
over my head and I'm heading south
church taught me how to hold a grudge
my brother taught me how to let it go
he learned from his father
we learn from our father
isn't that the way that this is supposed to go?
Sepia Ghost
there's a light bulb's burning glow in linoleum
Sunday stays later than most
shimmer is your shade in the glare of a t.v. show
I'm feeling you there, sepia ghost
wading into waste - promise me
we would stay, bleeding in the sea
I will always drive down that southern artery
I'm leaving you there, sepia ghost
some sung words passing heard
unknowns slow to coast
I do not know that person
sleeping in my home
State Street (Instr.)
Lucky a Hundred Times
sighing at the cold bedside
"mother, won't you tell me when it feels like flying?"
"darling, gladly.
I've been lucky a hundred times"
walking out of whispering pines
free enough to drown it in a fear of life
dying slowly
"I've been lucky a hundred times"
glowing from a television mind
honesty as currency - it feels like lying
go then, proudly
"I've been lucky a hundred times"
staring down a cold street light
"darling won't you tell me when it's in the right?
your goodbyes had me.
I've been lucky a hundred times"
Know
I will never know
the woman in the window
or all her smiling friends
telling silent movie stories
with names I'll never know
I will hurry back
to where the late frost froze
your seat-side window
you told me your short stories
we wrote a novel in the snow
April comes again
scenes slow no more in my window
warm, you turn and roll
you dream me into stories
of so many mornings I'll never know
1157
1157 on the punch pad
recount connected, mapped
scrapped collections last
I awaken in a state of summer's same
sadly returning
scene in sweet refrain
my patterns multiply
I mind it sometimes
mind of mine finds comfort when called away
to midnight noise, my mother moving
climbing the stairway
11/6 - another mark that I missed
another number, how we loved her
and what she never knew reserve for
Marion, MT
all the way your river winds
I can't trace the lines
it'll be some time before I find you
I'll float along beside you
oh brother, how true, how true
can your time find its use?
there's a fall coming soon, won't you mind it?
swallow the stream you can't swim
Westbound
I sought a side road dream
and walked along the shoulder
might seem to every other thing
a mild disorder
caught a fast flight; see the crash sight
now that I am down
my heart is where I started
I am westbound
call to clean the past away
we've been falling through the fakes
are you rooted in the arborway?
don't forsake the land of lakes
I've been wading in too slow to wake
in a draining notion
tried to dry an ocean today
if I shake the ties my mind tried to make
so much for getting closer
no more closure of late
say the fade is over
fate: we all fly over
wish the passing slower
down the longest road I'm walking in my dreams
no one goes to follow
I've a comforting lead
on the side I rest among my memories
there was no devotion
in our frozen poses
Methodist Lift (lyrics by NM Kjeldsen)
I'm not the river floating by
can't go as far as it is wide
never be as deep as it is now
over my head and I'm heading south
church taught me how to hold a grudge
my brother taught me how to let it go
he learned from his father
we learn from our father
isn't that the way that this is supposed to go?
Sepia Ghost
there's a light bulb's burning glow in linoleum
Sunday stays later than most
shimmer is your shade in the glare of a t.v. show
I'm feeling you there, sepia ghost
wading into waste - promise me
we would stay, bleeding in the sea
I will always drive down that southern artery
I'm leaving you there, sepia ghost
some sung words passing heard
unknowns slow to coast
I do not know that person
sleeping in my home
State Street (Instr.)
Lucky a Hundred Times
sighing at the cold bedside
"mother, won't you tell me when it feels like flying?"
"darling, gladly.
I've been lucky a hundred times"
walking out of whispering pines
free enough to drown it in a fear of life
dying slowly
"I've been lucky a hundred times"
glowing from a television mind
honesty as currency - it feels like lying
go then, proudly
"I've been lucky a hundred times"
staring down a cold street light
"darling won't you tell me when it's in the right?
your goodbyes had me.
I've been lucky a hundred times"
Know
I will never know
the woman in the window
or all her smiling friends
telling silent movie stories
with names I'll never know
I will hurry back
to where the late frost froze
your seat-side window
you told me your short stories
we wrote a novel in the snow
April comes again
scenes slow no more in my window
warm, you turn and roll
you dream me into stories
of so many mornings I'll never know
1157
1157 on the punch pad
recount connected, mapped
scrapped collections last
I awaken in a state of summer's same
sadly returning
scene in sweet refrain
my patterns multiply
I mind it sometimes
mind of mine finds comfort when called away
to midnight noise, my mother moving
climbing the stairway
11/6 - another mark that I missed
another number, how we loved her
and what she never knew reserve for
Marion, MT
all the way your river winds
I can't trace the lines
it'll be some time before I find you
I'll float along beside you
oh brother, how true, how true
can your time find its use?
there's a fall coming soon, won't you mind it?
swallow the stream you can't swim
Westbound
I sought a side road dream
and walked along the shoulder
might seem to every other thing
a mild disorder
caught a fast flight; see the crash sight
now that I am down
my heart is where I started
I am westbound
call to clean the past away
we've been falling through the fakes
are you rooted in the arborway?
don't forsake the land of lakes
Last Year EP
Highways And Cranes
the cat calls echo
sending shudders descending
through hollows of memory
of a life that I let go
the shadows of shoulders
creep 'cross the floorboards
like a lake sliding up shore
or a dam, too weak to hold for sure
central plains, I'm a ghost
second-hand man on the coast
I'm like a cinder
floating always into her
highways and cranes
life is lost today
I'll fly my cold devotion
in the wind that carries you home
high above airlines
in the skies of allies
moored you then, find me now
run it out, run it out
Plot Lines
ashes of my memories
those I've loved and enemies
stir them up, hope that you remember me
on the trail the embers leave
meet me there
in the plot lines of stories we create
in truth I wait for you - you're always late
happy never after, we awake
days go on, days get done
never getting closer than a song
now it's written, will it be sung?
Last Year
Last year is at arm's length
back when we fell through the fakes
back when you flowed through the phone
back when I was coming home
bringing me back from broken
when my fight is low and when I
hit hard pavement
it presses salt into my split lip
no mistaken aches, trains wasted
why chase it?
two hour drives to the seaboard
and here's to holding out for one more
the cat calls echo
sending shudders descending
through hollows of memory
of a life that I let go
the shadows of shoulders
creep 'cross the floorboards
like a lake sliding up shore
or a dam, too weak to hold for sure
central plains, I'm a ghost
second-hand man on the coast
I'm like a cinder
floating always into her
highways and cranes
life is lost today
I'll fly my cold devotion
in the wind that carries you home
high above airlines
in the skies of allies
moored you then, find me now
run it out, run it out
Plot Lines
ashes of my memories
those I've loved and enemies
stir them up, hope that you remember me
on the trail the embers leave
meet me there
in the plot lines of stories we create
in truth I wait for you - you're always late
happy never after, we awake
days go on, days get done
never getting closer than a song
now it's written, will it be sung?
Last Year
Last year is at arm's length
back when we fell through the fakes
back when you flowed through the phone
back when I was coming home
bringing me back from broken
when my fight is low and when I
hit hard pavement
it presses salt into my split lip
no mistaken aches, trains wasted
why chase it?
two hour drives to the seaboard
and here's to holding out for one more
Huntington Ave. EP
Background
same mistake
pressure play
stow your shaking, hold on
back away
folded fake
you know you hate it, hold on
I see
hard ground, wet land
I stand
we had the fall
told the time
tow the line
come and quit, the cold's on
jump the dock
it's all you've got
the boat has got to row on
I see
black ground, a background
as now
we had the fall
Know
I will never know
the woman in the window
or all her smiling friends
telling silent movie stories
with names I'll never know
so I'll hurry back
to where the late frost froze
your seat-side window
you told me your short stories
we wrote a little novel in the snow
April comes again
scenes slow no more in my window
warm, you turn and roll
you dream me into stories
of so many mornings I'll never know
Huntington Ave. (instrumental)
Paint, Fly, Fall, Return
for so long in my mind
all of your lines
fill in with ardor
my high
it begins, it sets in
your story
splits soil like roots of an arbor
cracks stone with a hammer that's harder
I can feel the tearing
like I'm breaking twice
it begins, it sets in
your story
another lesson I don't want to endure
won't you paint, fly, fall, return
same mistake
pressure play
stow your shaking, hold on
back away
folded fake
you know you hate it, hold on
I see
hard ground, wet land
I stand
we had the fall
told the time
tow the line
come and quit, the cold's on
jump the dock
it's all you've got
the boat has got to row on
I see
black ground, a background
as now
we had the fall
Know
I will never know
the woman in the window
or all her smiling friends
telling silent movie stories
with names I'll never know
so I'll hurry back
to where the late frost froze
your seat-side window
you told me your short stories
we wrote a little novel in the snow
April comes again
scenes slow no more in my window
warm, you turn and roll
you dream me into stories
of so many mornings I'll never know
Huntington Ave. (instrumental)
Paint, Fly, Fall, Return
for so long in my mind
all of your lines
fill in with ardor
my high
it begins, it sets in
your story
splits soil like roots of an arbor
cracks stone with a hammer that's harder
I can feel the tearing
like I'm breaking twice
it begins, it sets in
your story
another lesson I don't want to endure
won't you paint, fly, fall, return
