Fighting with all my breath to breathe. To inhale deep and feel free. To inhale and not feel a pain there in my ribs. Not feel the knife that twists at night as I twist in my sheets. My ruined bloody sheets. Rubbing broken glass into my skin. Rolling in my ruin. Rolling in my wreckage. A burnt fuselage with weeds growing through it on a mountainside. The heat, I can't sleep in the heat, summer sees long shadows grow under my eyes. Summer sees me dripping in my sheets staring at the ceiling. Summer sees me grimace in the night. I twist and wrap myself tight. Pull the sheets against the morning light. Still awake. Still unsated. Still unsaid. Never still, always moving, branches in the wind, no wind down here, no wind in this room, only the heat dripping down the walls. Only the embers glowing in the hot night and sweat pours off my back as I stare up at the black the clock on the wall says four and I'm no more just a gibbering hulk on the floor the bed's too hot, too small, too big and empty and full of sweat and twisted sheets and broken glass and I'm an ass and I'm a villain and pack the wound with liquor to keep from healing, wrong, or right or scabbing over at all.

And so I fade and flicker and shadow stumble into the dark like a jack slowly drowning hands up to be held and to be held up and to be warmed up from the twilight blue depths a bed a curse upon my lips and on my shoulders and on my back a monkey and a name and a set of lashes long and bloody twenty-seven years under the sun and in the rain and through the pain and through the sorrow all a brighter tomorrow and. A thing is as it is written and darling I think we both know we're both smitten and loves not love until you are bitten and I am laying it on a bit thick and I am feeling a little nervous a little whirling dervish feverish and wild and all in all just a child I'm a loser I'm a sot I'll drink all the whiskey you've got put a quarter in the box hear a song I'd rather not put me down put me in wipe me clean of my sins sorry about the mess.

Now we all just stand in line and wait until the time says no more you're dead and you'll die the same at thirty as sixty four and also four and eleven and there's no such thing as heaven just a dingy dirty floor and we'll all be asking for more but we won't get it we'll be dead

Untitled: dried up

The money's run out. The bottom of the well fell down. The bucket's rusted and the wheel is cracked and the rope is frayed and the mortar's been pulled out. Drop by drop the well goes dry and nobody understands why. If you give it away, they'll take it away, and who can say they put any back? Not me, I only took, and now I'm so thirsty my limbs are shook and shaken and quaking and drying out until the blood blows through my veins like a thirsty dustbowl twisted and the money's never coming back. We can break our backs digging a new well, but we won't find any water, or oil, or gas, just earthquakes and cracks where our homes and families used to be.

Untitled: bicycle ride at night in the rain

At the end of the day when the streetlights come on I am the only person in the world left alive as I ride my bike down empty streets past homes where dead people sit in front of flickering television sets. Dark houses lit by ghosts on screens, flickering static and dead laughter, and dead tears, and dead hopes, and dead dreams. The dead sit on their couches and watch somebody else's dream and I ride on past them in their million hordes. Castle by castle. Keep by keep. I ride on into that never coming sleep. They sit behind their walls and the dead do not stir, do not dance, have no thoughts of sweat or toil or romance, but they sleep with wide open staring eyes having dreams poured into their dead sockets, into their dead and rotted minds. And I was dead once too, and so were you, but tonight if we ride, tonight if we stir the air in our passing, if we push these limbs once more up the graveyard hill we can feel the wind through our hair, hear the whir and clack of wheels, feel the cold bright steel, of our bicycles in the night, maybe we'll come to life and live again and breath again and dream again.

Almost Doggerel 1

The ocean in its depths cannot hold me
 cannot chain me cannot bind me or tie me.
I float. I rise. I am the swelling tide.
I leap upon the shore,
glad in the sun and melt
I am foam, nothing more.

Untitled

Do you still want me? Do you still hold me in your mind? Do you still need the ties that bind? Do you still wish for my hands around you? Do you think of them at night? Do you think of me holding you tight? Do you still think of times we had? Do you still think about when we were glad? I know you've moved on. I have too. I've moved on as much as the sun does. I move on every day. I move with the wind. I move in my own way. I'm a wanderer. A lone highway rambler. I'm a country lane and I never end. I'm always out with friends. I'm tired and weary, and my eyes are red and bleary. I'm alone against the wind. The wind has always been my only friend. I'm in teeth, I'm in Oslo, I'm in Osco. I'm in the farmer's store. I put out my hand for more. I put in for this terrible war. The ocean wears away at me. It takes a grain or two of sand each day to rub on my surfaces and turn the polished metal to a dull and rusty gray. I'm in deep dear. I'm in the sky and in the clouds. I'm out among the towns. I'm from the church I'm from the parish. I hope that you never perish. I'm tired and I am weary. My eyes are red and bleary. I'm the ghost out in the corn. I'm the side with an ever present thorn. I'm in the creek I'm in the crick. I'm the one who wouldn't stick. I won't stay around here, I'd rather run out in the woods with all the deer. Hit me with your car I didn't mean it. I'm just a ghost can you see it? the horizon bends around the cracks. I bet you're the type that hits back.

Untitled: Forest Road

Down around the trees the sunlight gathers in little puffs of mist and ferns twist their limbs like spider legs between the birch trees that grow up and cover us and cover everything but the road and the trail and  the lake. We drove up here in silence. We drove up here for a weekend together. We drove up here to get away from all the things that are haunting us and we didn't succeed. The photograph tumbles from my hands inside my mind and lands face up on the polished wooden floor showing me that road disappearing into the green. It's the end of summer it's almost the end of us. I'll go on forever and so will you like a river flowing backwards, a confluence in reverse. The water forks and splits. We listened to death speaking and we listened to the silence where conversations used to be. We searched the forest floor for firewood and found mushrooms and we didn't find each other. We found silence and an empty wood and we made love in a tent and I emptied my air mattress and you bought me a foam mattress and I still sleep on it and I'm still in the night where I used to turn and toss and throw my weight around. I sleep all through the night even though I don't hold you tight. I sleep and I snore and I raise a ruckus and I raise the sun. I greet it in the morning with coffee, the sun. I send it to bed with wine and I let little flowers drop from my hand into a stream and I don't know where the stream goes, don't know what's around it's bends. More woods I guess. The ocean somewhere I guess. I ate Palak Paneer and something with Chickpeas and something with lentils from a heavy foil bag, cold with a spoon and ripped open like an animal like a coyote like I'd let all my manners drop away. I poured it all down my shirt and ripped that too and threw it in the fire and watched the smoke go up and carry everything away, all my old lives, little flowers dropped into a cold running stream from my hands. I don't miss anything anymore. I've got my eyes open. I've got them on the road. I watch it bend before me. Like it's bowing. Like it's bowing back and forth, side to side. It bows and bends and rises to meet my feet. My tires. My bicycle tires. Then it falls away from beneath me and I'm floating. I'm not on the ground. I'm not sitting next to a stream anymore, I've let all the flowers fall away from my hands I've become something with wings. Something on the wind. i'm becoming something more than I am I'm around the bend. I'm in the forest with the trees, but you can't see me. I'm down that mountain pass. I'm in the distance on that saddle ridge. The one that runs from snowy peaks to rocky range. I'm flying over mountains. Up them, down them. That thunder that echoes down the pass is me exploding as I run past. I'm around the bedn in the forest road. This is just shit I write down when I need to clear my head. The photograph of the forest road tumbles to the polished wooden floors in my mind. I see it through the windshield of your car. The one I fucked up on the way back from Chicago. We brought back your bicycle and left the pedal against the bare metal and it made a circular scratch. It let the rust in. It let the rust in, and things were never the same and things were always back down that road, like two rivers separating up the streams leaves fall to the floor of the forest in the photograph on the polished wooden floors of my mind. There are mushrooms and the birthplace of Judy Garland too, and we had breakfast in a country diner.

We sit in the ashes of all the tragedies of our fathers and grandfathers and wonder how we ever got here and can't imagine the tragedies coming to us oh god the blood the millions, billions of lives snuffed out for somebody to be right and still we say that our children have it wrong that things were better when our fathers and mothers were the largest ones in our lives we want so desperately to cling to something and what if we found out there was never any wisdom there just a guess and a shrug and to shut up and keep going over the hill surely we won't have to shower ourselves in blood once we crest this rise and still the blood pours on, and on, and on, and covers us. We were born on this hill, born into this torrent of blood. Born into this gout of pain and suffering. There is always the crest of the hill, and us, the blood.

Tangled up in sheets stained with sweat smelling of loneliness lost regrets and enervation been at a low elevation need that clear mountain air the pines the wind watch them bend on the highest peaks it's been too long I go in streaks I wave I stand the hourglass pours down sand and someday I'll lay myself down to die. I'll bend down to the water and slip into that glacier stream, and no one will wail and scream and I'll drift down coldly without a sound the universe will end and the stars will fall and we'll all be done and gone and it will have been far too long since the sun sang and called us with her song and we'll rise up out of the water then together at last after the end a glowing river of fireflys I don't trade in pretty lies I trade in lead I trade in words I trade in lightning and fire and molten glass I am lava I am thunder I am flash I am all the things that have past. I am the living end and I am your long lost friend I am tired I am weary I am Monday morning dreary. I am the things that cannot last I am the truth hidden in the past I am the future I and the present and I am ready for spring.

Untitled: 3 AM

From the depths I awake in a flurry and the flames lick my feet. The world is undone and Paris is burning. That beautiful face that launched a thousand ships, oh Helen! It's burning! Rome is ruined and scattered and her pillars are torn down and tossed in heaps. Oh London! Ah, me, your warrens too have burnt and now blow in the wind with the rest of the ash. From dust to dust. Ash to ash. Perhaps this is the fire in which we lay down at last. Oh my love. Oh at last. Paris is burning. Rome has fallen. London lights the night with her pyres, all is lost and we are done. Undone. Down into the endless depths we dive and this all was nothing but a dream.

It's A Mess And Full Of Piss, But There's Nice Parts Too

I read some of your words today. None of them were about me. Or that's how it seemed anyway. I'll read them again and again until this is at an end. Or my life is over. Or the world is over. Or the water covers us as we sleep in the deep. Icebergs will melt and floods will come and deserts will grow and there will be nowhere safe for us all to go and I know I'm done and still not done and never done and never started and closed hearted and open mouthed and empty minded and bright light blinded automatic writer unconscious subconscious still can't find the right words to say how precisely I feel, because I feel ten thousand different ways at once and two hundred thousand contradictions within. I'm over, I'm done. We've both moved on. I'm stuck. I'm still here. You're not. That's clear. I'm just waiting for the next right one. My ship will come in, my lottery will win, my stars will align, I'll find my valentine. Just wait, you'll see it's not impossible for me. She'll never be you, but I'll always be me. We'll make a little life together at the edges of the woods. Trees growing, wind blowing moss tumbling down mountain streams gabardine dresses and no fussy frowns wide open prairies and waving grasses and corn with tassels and lots of lovely little hassles and tussles and furrows and fights with the masses teeming streaming people leaving work in their little cars on the highway that runs by like a stream of never ending steel and rubber and tires leave me tired and open and scarred and I just want to run. I want it my way I'm gonna be on the run without a gun, just for fun, in some universe you and I were the ones for each other not another no more now I'm done, and I'm just catching my breath because I'm going to speak until there's nothing left, tell the story no it's not boring going nowhere going somewhere can't it go everywhere at once give it all my voice every last little ounce strength is fleeting time is fleeting life is fleecing me of my years and good cheer still I'm merry, to the contrary now I'm old and now I'm wrinkled and happy and I've got crows feet which are those feet which come from smiles and joy and love and life and I wouldn't trade a wrinkle for another chance, I used all my worries on this chance and I won't let you take it from me, I won't let me be taken from me. I am myself I am my song. I sing my song all the God damned live day long. I hope you're strong, I hope your voice is high and clear and it pierces the air and the heavens part and light comes streaming down around you green light through trees and trails and bobtails and cocktails and horseshoes running on the ground I hope you've grown strong, my pains have ended, I held onto them too long. I hope everything that's happened to you has been a lesson, I hope that lessens, I hope it lightens, I hope it brightens I hope you're not slighted or blighted or soul dark nighted. I hope wind. I hope stars. I hope sunrises. I hope fun disguises and I hope high times and sweet peruvian limes and that nobody nickel and dimes you and that all of these times serve you. Oh my God. Oh my soul. Oh my heart. Oh my life. Sing the song of your life. Sing it long sing it strong sing it all God Damned lived day long. Fuck piss shout shit scream dream make it a pretty thing make it an ugly thing just make it a fucking thing, make a fucking thing that's the struggle that's the buckle we can't ever quite close that's the fuck-hole we can't ever quite fill that's the bucket we can't ever quite fill go to the well again and again and see if the water ever ends pour it out on the ground listen to that glorious sound oh my God oh my soul oh my heart oh my life I'm singing the song of my life with ink and with pen and in the end I'll never trade a sorrow for a joy for they become joys all in the end in the never ending dancing and glimmering that is this spinning ball of mud and piss and shit and filth and flowers growing by a running stream with a girl in a dress of gabardine and a fussy frown and a wide open prairie praise the waving grasses and corn with tassels and all of the hustle and bustle and hurry and scurry so my darling, my dear my whole heart come near and don't you worry don't spill a tear not a drop this thing will never stop it's called life and you sing it and swing your arms as you walk as you march as you chop down a larch you call it from your soul and the song like the wind will make you whole.

Study For Greenfield

Down in the field where the corn stalks get cut, get disced. Get sliced and hauled away and turned into silage. Get turned into something new. The stalks get cut down and turned into food. The stalks get cut down. Cut down in the fall. I'm lying there down in the field. Cut down. Cut down in the fall. Turning into something new. Turning over and over. My whole life turning over. I'm turning over in the field. Turning over how everything ends. Under the stars. Under Orion the hunter. Under those great swirling globes of fire. This starry night that never ends. I'm laying in the earth. In the wet damp earth staring into the sky and seeing the ends of all my friends and family. Seeing how this ball spins. Being turned into something new. Something glorious. Something that causes pain and joy. I'm dying in the field. Down in the field. Cut down in the field. Cut down in the fall.

Automatic Writing 2/6/2017

In the morning I wake up and make coffee and read news about the burning of the world. The burning of my country. The trampling of my flag. The muddying of ideals. The way we've fallen into pettiness and strife. In the morning I drink my coffee and stare out my window at a gray winter sky. The clouds hang low. The wind blows cold. There is frost on the glass. Steam rises from my coffee. In the morning I remember the spring that is coming. The grass that will be growing. I think of the times that are coming and a light fills up inside of me. There is goodness and joy coming soon. Our hearts will be in bloom, and we could walk down the rows of them one by one and bite into them and feel the juices run down our chins like watermelons or peaches or pears and the lovely fruits of our lives are not things you can see or hold or touch or taste but they are things you can love. The fruits of our lives are not our children but the things our children learn from us. I cannot wait to stand with you in the sunshine my darlings.  I cannot wait to stand with you in that bright burning light on green grass and I'll wear a wide brimmed hat, because I don't have hair and I'll wear my old jeans and together we'll kneel in the dirt and pray to the Goddess, Mother Earth. We'll make our prayers into plants and we'll plant rows and rows of prayers to glorify her name in our hearts. We'll plant rows and rows of prayers to sing her praises. Dirt under our nails, sweat on our backs and chest. Oh that is the song I want to sing on this cold winter morning. The song of a spade turning the earth. The song of birds singing in the trees. The song of insects humming. Birds Sing. Bees Sing. Earth Sing. Sky sing. Love sing. Hope sing. Dirt sing. Then when we have planted all that we will the sky will open up it's heart and pour gentle rains on us and blow gentle winds on us and we can stand under the roof on the porch and drink fragrant green tea and stare at the garden of our love our love for our mother our love for the dirt our love for the earth the goddess who holds us to her heart before she sets us down before we run away into the dark oh how I love her oh I feel her golden breath on the back of my neck I feel her arms grip me close and the song that she whispers into my ear is my life it is a phrase of love between the earth and my soul between all that is and my soul and that is my life. I think about this as I sip my coffee in the morning and stare out at the grey winter sky.

Automatic Writing 2/5/17

Darling bring the plates to the garden. Isn't that the loveliest phrase you can imagine? I imagine saying that to you in our house of blue. A house for two. A house for me and a house for you. Darling bring the plates to the garden let's eat our tomatoes and corn in the wet August air. Let's stare at each other in soft low light as mosquitoes bite us and then I'll reach across the table and take your hand and we'll look up at the trees and talk about how much this neighborhood has changed. Darling let's take these plates to the garden, I've already wiped off the patio table. Oh my love in the summer it's a sin to eat indoors. Oh my love in the summer it's a sin to sit anywhere but here in the place we made with our love. Darling bring those plates of corn and tomatoes to the garden, I'll bring you up a cold beer. Darling I love the way the setting sun plays in the leaves of our trees. Oh my love, oh my soul here we have made a home. Something more than wood and brick. Something more than light and air and love and shadow. How can this thing we've made be more than the sum of our parts? How can this thing we've made be more than the whole of our hearts? Oh my soul, oh my love, my life, my growing tree, take these plates to the garden and let us eat there in the sunset in the wet August sunset, the air is thick with bugs and they bite at us, and I love every single one for they pull me into this moment with you. Pull me into this moment after we've finished eating our tomatoes and corn, into the moment when I push the plates aside and take your hand and stare into your eyes. Oh my love oh my soul my light my growing tree my thirsting vine I'm the love you waited for, for such a long long time. Bring the plates into the garden and there we'll eat our tomatoes and corn with salt and butter and pepper and basil and mayonnaise.

Automatic Writing 1/31/2017

I am not afraid. I am no longer hiding in the dark under my blankets trying not to breathe or let the monsters notice my sweat drips down from my forehead past my nose on my cheeks it streams looks like tears it's not tears it's just sweat I'm not crying in the dark this is just sweat I was running in the dark not crying don't tell me I was crying I was running I'm a runner I'm a runner in the dark a runner in the black a runner in the abyss a runner who puts his feet forward with faith in the dark that's all you have in the black emptiness where nothing is there not even your hands can't even see them in front of your face you can't see or do anything but you have to do something because you are you so you put one foot forward you put one foot forward then you put the other forward and then the other and then the other and then the other and then the other and you pick up the pace and you pick up the pace and you put one foot forward and you put the other forward and you pick up the pace and you pick up the pace. You step forward in the dark with hope in your heart. You have to pick your feet up with faith. There's nothing else you can do in the dark. You have to do this it is the only way it is the only way it is the only in the dark there are no ways there is only one and that is to act with faith when you have nothing left you have to act with faith or you have to do something even if it'll kill you because being alone in the dark is the same as being dead is the same as dying is the same as purgatory being in the black depths in the abyss is the same as being in hell and when you're in hell the only thing you can do is put your faith in God and run. Run until you're out of breath and your fee t hurt and you know that you can't go any further.

Automatic Writing 1/30/17

Rise up and fight. Fill your fists with hope. Fill your heart with fists. Fill your soul with love. Strap on those worn out old boxing gloves. Punch a nazi today. For America today. Punch a nazi son. That's how it's done. Fight em in the morning fight em at night, don't let them go, grab em by their slime covered tails. Hitler was not right. Stalin was evil too. We're never done with this fight. It's morning in america and I'm ready to get some blood on my guts. Ready to puke liberty all over my shoes. Ready to stand on the barricades and shout in the faces of the fascists. It took seventy years for the second world war to come to our shores. Seventy years of sleeping eagles, dreaming of peace. Yearning to breathe free. Let me love you in the light of burning streets. Girl these sheets got a lot of heat. Here we stand at the end of things. The sky's on fire blue and the fields are burning green
I can't seem to catch my breath. I can't seem to hold it in. It shakes me. It sends shivers down my spine. Those mountains old and broken and rounded and jagged in their breaks and crags and cracks and teeth. I can't sleep I can't wake. I'm lost in a dream, an endless sequence of things running through me past me by me through me up me down me around me running me down running me into the clouds running me into the earth pulling me in with the arms of gravity pull me down from the stars. Like a meteor give a shout fill your soul fill your mouth from the rushing stream pop the rivets in your heart.

This is the sewage. THis is the muck these words are the sludge. I'll write a phrase that will shine and gleam in the dark in the stink, it will shine and gleam and thus make a chink, it will burst forth through your armor. Into your heart from my heart an arrow from the bow to catch on a bowstring and there take root and grow. Oh dear heart. Oh my dear heart. Oh my body's broken. Oh my soul is cracked. Oh my love has found me wrecked and ruined. My hair has fallen out from nape to lashes, I am covered in ashes. I am a wretch. I am a shame. A shade. A passing ghost and I rise. I rise up from my haunches. My spine uncurls. My fists unclench. Wash me clean in the river. Wash my soul in the muddy waters. Wash me oh wash me let me bathe in that blood of the earth. That mud. That soulful mud will wash me clean. Clear my lungs. Let me scream. I'm a towering titan born in a small small seed. I'm a work of bronze of brass, polish me clean. Let me grow. Let me unfold. Let me grow roots. Let me take root. Let me grow tall and stretch to the sky.

Automatic Writing 1/26/2017

Take me down to that old bayou where the stars light green fires in the swamps and burp and gurgle and stream slowly down the sounds of snakes and crickets spider webs and timeless dreams of things beyond the seems beyond the veil beyond the tears beyond the fears and fighting and crying and dying and the sounds of the water ripple slowly through drop by drop by drop falling leaves and whispering grasses the wind moves like hands across the water a presence in the dark a voice a sound a call a trumpet a wind a light a fire a voice the word the thought the holy thought the prayer the voice the holy voice the highest of high and holy ever holy the light beyond the dark the light beyond the veil the dance the holy dance the door the holy door the throne of power the seat of love the seat of wisdom all circle all dance all sing here we are at the end of things at the end of dreams and a small rock circles and turns and dances and life swirls and dances upon it here we are at the edge of time second by second slipping from the future into the past and oh my love can you see the stars turn above your head like a crown and your eyes sparkle in the dimness and flicker with firelight oh my love my breath my heart my heat my voice my soul speaks to you sings to you dances for you dances because of you sings because of you sings because of you speaks because of you breathes because of you breathes for you heart beats for you the pulse and flood of blood in my veins for you the fire that crackles through my nerves for you oh my heart oh my soul my only one my all my whole that thou art the maker of the world and wind and animals I don't doubt oh my heart my soul my holy voice the sound of your name makes me shake and shiver and I am lost in my love for you lost in my love of you lost in you love you praise you sing you shake you make you heal you fear you hear you sing you king you make me break me fires wake me come now and wind me in your arms wrap me up in them swaddle me in your breath wrap me in your kisses and love shed your tears on my skin wet my lips with your lips and fill my lungs with your lungs my light with your light

Shackled chained and hung
Darling what have we become?
Gnashing teeth snarling mouths
Being filled with nothing. Doubts
Herking, jerking, bulking, groping
Down in the dark, not even hoping.
Lost and battered, scattered and done.
Wishing this is the end that's come.

The cold cuts by inches and life by miles. Time runs through glasses grain by grain and you can't stop a single one. They just get faster. They go faster. Everything slips and slides through your fingers. It just goes away. It all runs down. Runs into that chamber you can't reach. You try to hold onto one thing. Try to hold on to one minute or second and it's gone.

I dreamt of death and dust and desert sand choking every green growing thing upon the land. I dreamt of incineration radiation and it came for us all as we attempted evacuation burning us to a charred glassy gleam. I dreamt of the stars, the wild burning, tumbling, churning stars. I dreamt of the mountains of the moon which glimmered white in our doom. I dreamt of all the things we tried to stop. I dreamt of the end. I dreamt of long long ages of nothing, of death silent and slow, of endless night under clouds of ash, of time stood still because there was no one and nothing to mark it as it passed. I dreamt of all this. I dreamt of less than this. I dreamt of dying not just once, and not just me, not just you or we, but everything dying as a whole.

Never let me go into that night without saying goodbye
 never let me die in death
we dream away our lives and
I never want to wash away this one
never let me stop you from leaving
goodnight goodbye
never let me hold you back
from what you need
never let me stop you
never say I didn't tell you
never leave me in the dark cold
and Dead and rotten
never let me go that way
never put me in an old folks home
 without you
never tell me you don't remember
how we met or who I am
never let me die inside you
never let the knots loosen
the strings fray the knuckles buckle
and knees weaken shoulders give
and bend
never weep for me
in a church that's where
God visits only on Sundays
never bury me in a grave
never hold me down
I want to blow away with the wind
but with you
never scatter me without you
never put me in the ground
without you
never put me down
never taunt me or tease me
and please don't release me
our lives are nothing
but a joyous sound
never tell me I didn't say I love you.
I love you.

Hearted

Hoped and held and hefted and hucked and heated and harrowed and hollowed and heaved and hewn and heavy and healed and hafted and hated and hastened and helped and halted and hulked and happy and hinted and heaped and hurt and halfed and whole.

Light the fire build the pyre darling let me hear you sing.
Tonight's no lighter still the fire's crackling hear it brings.
I'm a sigher, nothing's dire, fates got me in a back swing
Roll the tires, heart grow brighter, the road calls me in spring.
Widening gyre highest flier that's my spirit soaring.
Building higher to the sky or to the stars eclipsing

Need a job
get a job
I need a job

woooo hooo hooo hoooo

Need a job
get a job
I need a job