The life in his eyes
Did something shake his brain
On that long bus ride?
Swear he had my mother's face
What I'd give to find him
Hold him in a long embrace.
What happened to his body
Why's he look so white and empty?
When he shows up at my door
Just don't know him.
Used to sit and talk for days
Now he lays there in a haze
'Till some tiny little nothing
Triggers psychotic eruption
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What happens when he's sleepin'
Why's he wake up cryin' and screamin'
Knockin' into walls and runnin'
Like hungry animals are comin'
To gnaw his bones, lap up his blood
From a ditch bank in the mud
Leave his scarecrow in the sticks
For the black birds
And the blue jays to pick
For the nature to encroach
For the wanderers to approach
For the snow and autumn leaves
To be buried underneath
For the rivers to rise
Wash him out into the tides
Used to have his pick of lovers
A whole array of pretty ones
My brother was a silver son
Photos
A heavyweight
A head boy
A frontman, a waterfall
A stoic prince
Not the second
But the first violin
So forget the viola
So forget the cello
So forget the violin
He's up, he's up, he's up in his room
Gone solo
He used to dazzle us
Leave a trail of magic dust
At the end of every joke
We would laugh so hard we'd choke
He could turn over a stone
Find an endless swell of poems
Used to bring the sweetest gifts
We went to him to be uplifted
For inspiration, friendship
We needed love, we needed tips
Oh how I miss, how I miss
My brother I miss
You ask me what's he do
He swallows reds, he swallows blues
Stares off in the night sky
You ask me what's he do
So forget the viola
So forget the cello
So forget the violin
He's up, he's up, he's up there
Laying low
Artist: Richard Bona
Artist: Sounds From Another Race
Artist: Sinead Oconnor