The cat calls through the night. And two chicks in the parking lot crack wise. on the price of fame, they stood to gain. The phone book's been ripped off.
In home theaters. Still projecting. Undestructing. A voice from the back of your. Double feature. Soft and harder. Wait. In silence. While planning your attack.
In every story, every secret told. You are not the first to wake up. To learn your lines before you have the part. You woke up early and you walk up torn.
in coral and gray. In submarine chambers. One day. It swam for the light. . The jewels that lit. The cities that float there. Cities in circles drawn perfect complete.
I said my. My slow descent. Into alchoholism it went. To my head. Where I really need it. With abuse that remained untreated. . I said my my my. My slow descent.
It was crime at the time but the laws we changed 'em. Though the hero forgot us for another sane one (??). Introducing for the first time, Phil on the microphone...
People of Earth we have heard your station. Sold your song to the United Nations. all on a debt to. the heads of state (yeah). what could you do in this situation?.
The sound of God is the screech of tires,. Lights and magnets, bolts and wires,. Strayed from the road, this very one.. Still to come:. . The sound of tires is the sound of God,.
I leapt across three or four beds into your arms. Where I had hidden myself somewhere in your charm. Our golden handshake has been smashed into this shape.
Always the true one, calm, selective,. Staking a claim among the young defectives, far off under the nighttime, baby, crawl into the wave.. Got to be cool now, unprotected, you come around every day to collect me,.
Glasswork shards decorate this house. We're tossing lost arts out windows. The splash and jangle of a secret science defined. You claim some golden age is upon us.
Under your wheels, the hope of spring. Mirage of loss, a few more things. You left your sorrow dangling. It hangs in air like a school cheer. . Complex notes inside the chords.
I believe. You've had something that's mine. All this time. Slow to singalong crawl. Fork it over. . I live among. The alarms, where I trip. Where they sing.
Mass romantic fool wears Foster Grants, his books on tape ring true,. Like everyone wants to say I love you to someone on the radio.. The first voice in the hollowed stars, now the one true loves,.
Letter From An Occupant - The New Pornographers. . Untold the eventual down falls. Just a bill from the restaurant. You told me I could order the moon, babe,.
What do these marching orders mean?. Some hackneyed fairy tale I'd move outta their dreams. It's what they do. Stepping to. Marching ten paces in front of you.