words that escape me

namesake, bob dylan

2010-03-17T00:25:00.000-07:00

With spring in the air here at the home base in Vegas, all seems well and good. Today when I was finishing out my emusic.com downloads (I got 101 downloads/songs for 11.99 and they have a lot more well known artists now) I decided to go deep into the album treasure trove of Bob Dylan’s.
For the past 6-7 years I’ve had a steady growing relationship with Bob Dylan’s music and though at times it can be strained; I always come back. It comes from a strange place for me, seeing as how I was named after him, so through my formative years it seemed like a good thing to shy away from and rebel against. Kind of like, hey old man, I’m my own person! I only listen to Smashing Pumpkins. But like I said, a few years ago I sort of just feel in love with his songs.
You can say what you want about Bob Dylan. There are various camps and schools of opinion and thought, and they are all different and divided. Love him, hate him, make fun of his voice; fine. But the guy has the song in his bones. He’s got the thought and the thrill of the word written inside his soul. He has so many beautifully written songs, in a way, they seem almost too good. He’s kind of like the Chicago Bulls of the 1990’s. It’s almost not fair. I agree that he doesn’t have the greatest voice and is the punchline of a lot of jokes, especially as he gets older and his voice gets worse, but his songs keep getting better and better.
As I said, my relationship with his music is strained sometimes due to the hit or miss quality of certain eras of his albums. In fact, recently my relationship with music has been strained. There aren’t many songs or bands that make me jump for joy and if you turn on the radio (I hardly ever do) now, you’ll find nothing but what sounds like sandwich commercials and video game music. That’s fine, if that’s your thing. I guess.
As I get older I find myself yearning for more organic sounding music. Music that has a history. That comes from somewhere. That has a story. That has a heart and a soul. (You can’t tell me Lady Gaga has these things.) I go for subtlety and emotion and movement. I listen to old blues, jazz, folk, country music. I seem to work in reverse or in no real logical gear at all. I’m all over the map of time. (For instance, I love the Gaslight Anthem a relatively new band.)
As Dylan gets older, each successive new album comes with the feeling of a cool night next to an open window or out on a porch. A glass of scotch in one hand and a cigar burning in the other. Perhaps that’s just me, but I feel that way. Tonight I stumbled across his critically acclaimed album Oh, Mercy. I’ve always heard about this album because it’s one of the few that Daniel Lanois produced and I believe won some grammies. (He also did Time Out of Mind, another grammy winner.) If you don’t know Daniel Lanois, you should. He is basically the 5th member of U2, and mostly the talent behind that band. He is always created as co-writer and co-producer of nearly all their records and when they win grammys he gets one too as well as a share of the money. He is a wonderful producer. So sonic and lush. If you’ve heard one of his records, you could probably pick out what he does with other people’s records. He’s produced U2, Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson, and who knows how many more. I’m not saying he’s single-handedly responsible for the Edge’s guitars and effects, but he might be 75% responsible. If you don’t believe me about his contributions in U2 and want to be thoroughly disappointed like I was about U2’s real talent (or lack thereof) watch the classic albums Dvd they show on Vh1 about the making of the Joshua Tree and you’ll see how much he and Brian Eno contribute.
I saw Daniel Lanois play about 4 years ago at the Spaceland in Silverlake for 5 bucks and his guitar sound and live band are amazing. So, I got the Dylan record he produced that I hadn’t heard before and the record is great. You know it’s a Lanois production because it will be lush, atmospheric, percussive and very drum and bass oriented. The song I keep listening to is called Most of the time which you can download here for one week: .
It’s what I would call a drive at night kind of song. We all have those. That feeling of rolling down the windows and looking at the stars, lost in thought but also in the music. I love the arrangement of this song because it’s almost non-descript. It definitely relies on feeling and ambiance more than it does the traditional way a song is played. The guitars float instead of sound strummed. The bassline propels the song along with the drums. And the lyrics. Well they’re pretty swell. They’re not as heavy as his newer stuff is (see: Modern Times, Time out of mind, love and theft) but still effective. We’ve all been there.

Most of the time
I’m clear focused all around,
Most of the time
I can keep both feet on the ground,
I can follow the path, I can read the signs,
Stay right with it when the road unwinds,
I can handle whatever I stumble upon,
I don’t even notice she’s gone,
Most of the time.
Most of the time
It’s well understood,
Most of the time
I wouldn’t change it if I could,
I can make it all match up, I can hold my own,
I can deal with the situation right down to the bone,
I can survive, I can endure
And I don’t even think about her
Most of the time.
Most of the time
My head is on straight,
Most of the time
I’m strong enough not to hate.
I don’t build up illusion ’til it makes me sick,
I ain’t afraid of confusion no matter how thick
I can smile in the face of mankind.
Don’t even remember what her lips felt like on mine
Most of the time.
Most of the time
She ain’t even in my mind,
I wouldn’t know her if I saw her
She’s that far behind.
Most of the time
I can’t even be sure
If she was ever with me
Or if I was with her.
Most of the time
I’m halfway content,
Most of the time
I know exactly where it went,
I don’t cheat on myself, I don’t run and hide,
Hide from the feelings that are buried inside,
I don’t compromise and I don’t pretend,
I don’t even care if I ever see her again
Most of the time.

I guess the message I get myself from this song is that though we falter, most of the time we’re gonna be all right. It’s about living and the absence of fear. Most of the time, of course. Meaning we do have those days or moments where we despair and wonder what if, or what is that one up to these days, or we play guiltless and throw up our hands and plead ignorance.

The second song of his I got tonight and am sharing here I had previously heard many times. It’s from one of his official bootleg collections and it came on my ipod one day while I was driving just before my daughter was born. I remember thinking, damn, Angelina is a good name, and I asked why we hadn’t thought of it. (Of course the answer is everyone would assume we are huge Angelina Jolie fans, which I personally don’t care for.)
But the song Farewell, Angelina is so simple and beautiful and lyrical that I will just let the lyrics tell the story for me. (It’s more of a traditional folk song.) You can download it here:
Farewell Angelina

The bells of the crown
Are being stolen by bandits
I must follow the sound
The triangle tingles
And the trumpets play slow
Farewell Angelina
The sky is on fire
And I must go.
There’s no need for anger
There’s no need for blame
There’s nothing to prove
Ev’rything’s still the same
Just a table standing empty
By the edge of the sea
Farewell Angelina
The sky is trembling
And I must leave.
The jacks and the queens
Have forsaked the courtyard
Fifty-two gypsies
Now file past the guards
In the space where the deuce
And the ace once ran wild
Farewell Angelina
The sky is folding
I’ll see you in a while.
See the cross-eyed pirates sitting
Perched in the sun
Shooting tin cans
With a sawed-off shotgun
And the neighbors they clap
And they cheer with each blast
Farewell Angelina
The sky’s changing color
And I must leave fast.
King Kong, little elves
On the rooftops they dance
Valentino-type tangos
While the makeup man’s hands
Shut the eyes of the dead
Not to embarrass anyone
Farewell Angelina
The sky is embarrassed
And I must be gone.
The machine guns are roaring
The puppets heave rocks
The fiends nail time bombs
To the hands of the clocks
Call me any name you like
I will never deny it
Farewell Angelina
The sky is erupting
I must go where it’s quiet.

hope and change

2010-03-14T22:45:00.000-07:00

Hope & Change
Owls in winter trees
No hunger in your children’s eyes.
This ain’t my city
But I’m doing fine.
Let’s break this bread
& recite these prayers read

Trains running ahead full steam
To the end of my bad dreams

When Hope and change comes our way
At the end of each day
Will you know my name?

You & your mother’s eyes.
Truth of destiny revealed
So much surprise.
Broken bottle tops on Joshua Trees
This is my desert, don’t you see.

Hope, you’re swimming pools & ice cream cakes.
Quiet strolls & afternoon milkshakes.
This old road that means so much to me.
Takes us all where we long to be.

sparklehorse

2010-03-08T18:32:00.000-08:00

Today is a Monday. I am almost done with my thirtieth year alive on this planet. The weather has been strange and wet, almost like the winter and pre-spring weather in the place where I grew up. It’s dreary but it’s not cold. It’s the desert, but it’s rained like there is no tomorrow these past few months. Especially in these last few days. Which is all right with me. As this is Las Vegas and drainage of rainwater seems like it wasn’t even a thought when they built and ‘designed’ this city; there are standing pools of water all over the place. Since this is, like I said, Las Vegas; at random intervals, the city gives way to open desert.
In these strange places, too, are these standing puddles. It’s windy and cool. Pretty much what you’d expect from the month of March. Right now on the couch next to me sits my almost month old daughter Hope. She is to the left. The chocolate lab named Allie is to my right. Right now on the itunes is Sparklehorse.
(For those of you not in the know;here is the news link:)
http://www.examiner.com/x-11210-Indie-Music-Examiner~y2010m3d8-Sparklehorses-Mark-Linkous-dead-at-47-after-apparent-suicide
Mark Linkous, who more or less was Sparklehorse, took his own life on Saturday by what I’ve read is shooting himself through the heart. He is the second brilliant songwriter/artist to take such a harsh way out. (Elliott Smith stabbed himself in the heart in 2003.) I myself having dealt with crippling depression at times in my life often found solace in their music. I’ve read how symbolic, final, awful etc. taking your life this way is. (Literally shooting or stabbing yourself through the heart, the symbolic area where love and comfort comes from.) It’s horrifically sad and it’s easy to be bitter and try to wash your hands of the situation by saying how incredibly selfish and fucked up to do something like this.
Which it is no doubt, but that’s not how I want to always remember Sparklehorse, Elliott Smith, Kurt Cobain, and the tons of other great artists and people that have fallen to this…this what? Is it despair? Is it addiction? Something more fierce and dark than anyone can ever really fathom? (especially those that are fortunate enough never to feel that low.) whatever the reality is, I want to remember the beauty. Of life. Of their music. Of the feelings and experiences they’ve given me. The endless discussions of his recording techniques and how did he get those sounds? How did he write such minimalist lyrics?
The cold fact of the matter that cuts to the bone like surgical steel is that he’s gone, but his music is not. Whatever stuff we got and we carry around, (for me things like Sparklehorse vinyl lps, cds, the fact I was fortunate enough to see them live once, knew someone personally who toured with them) whatever stuff we have filed away in the file cabinets of our souls, will never perish. That’s one thing to take away from this anyway.
I first heard of Sparklehorse in 1999 when I was reading Rolling Stone. (Up until very recently, I subscribed to Rolling Stone and read it semi-religiously.) It was an album review of the 2nd record, Good Morning Spider. The review had me captivated. It said the music was a something like it was sad cowboy music from the moon. These being the days before the internet did very much, you had to actually buy the album, (at a premium price by the way) from the cdnow website. I’m not even sure this site still exists and you couldn’t really go to the website and preview the whole thing. You maybe only got a 20 second quicktime clip, but if you had dialup, it wasn’t worth the effort. (Even worse was Real Audio.) So you had pay this premium price, plus shipping, which brings in my means of first buying the album.
At the time my best friend Jordan also had an avid thirst for new music and reading Rolling Stone on the crapper. (There used to be a great feeling opening up the mailbox and getting your latest issue. My favorite was always the random notes section, and the film and album reviews. Still are to some extent.)
So I was 20 years old. I didn’t have much money, nor a job. Jordan however did and he was as enthused about this record review as I was. He had a job (yikes and a bank card too) and ordered the record on my instant urging that this could be the sound we were looking for.
It was.
I made a copy of the cd onto a tape and carried it with me and played it on my walkman (geez, this sounds like the stone age, I’m sure, to most people) while I made the futile attempt at junior college. I had it on tape until our one friend (one!) that had a cdr burner could make me a copy. Now for those not older than 20 I guess, let me briefly describe to you what one had to do to make a copy of a cd, especially if you only had 1 cdr drive. Mind you, these things burned at a rate of 2x. So whatever the length of the album was, say 45 minutes, cut it in half, and you had your cd. However, if you only had 1 drive, you had to rip the disc first and that took about 45 minutes too. Needless to say, it’s baffling how far along technology has come in 10 years, and also how we used to have to wait for things. Which worked at, great and was completely worth it if you liked it. If you didn’t however; then you were out money and time.
I loved it.
I bought everything that came out before and after that record. I wanted to be in that band. Wanted to write and record those songs of beauty. Songs like ‘most beautiful widow, Maria’s little elbows, hundreds of sparrows, piano fire, applebed, gold day, morning hollow,’ filled the soundtrack of the film that is my life for years to come. I spent absurd amounts of money of imports and eps. Scoured the internet for live mp3s. Purchased bootlegs foolishly on Ebay. All in all, I found myself transfixed in the beauty with my headphones on. I found a world of imagery and sound.
One thing I never got to see and can’t find anywhere to download is for the record It’s a Wonderful Life, there was an IFC special where I think they filmed short films for all of the songs.
It’s a Wonderful life came out at a strange time in my life. It came out in August of 2001. I was going through the motions of being drug around by girls I liked that didn’t like me all that much. Of course we all know what happened in the September of that year. I had hoped and truly believed this would be the record that broke them into mainstream popularity instead of indie and critical fandom. It didn’t. As with nearly all albums released that fall, it didn’t do well.
The single for Piano Fire was scrapped post 9/11 for containing the lyric “I got sunburned waiting for the jets to land.” Pretty lame but so was the climate in America at the time. (Damn near 8 years were to follow of the same shit.) I bought tickets for the tour that was in November. The LA show sold out as soon as it was listed so I got tickets to the Belly Up (near San Diego) and I had the hookup to get into the sold out show the day after in Santa Monica. (The hook up was emailing the owner of the club via the website of the club and she said I could just come and pay because my name plus one was on the list. It’s funny how innocent and easy some things used to be.) The show was great in San Diego. The crowd was great but you could tell there was something a little defensive or sad coming from Mark. He was a southern gentleman through and through but onstage he didn’t much of a persona, banter, or even appear to like being onstage. It was a great show but I didn’t make the one the next night because I had nowhere to stay. I did but my friend lived 3 blocks from the beach and there was not 1 parking spot in all of Long Beach that night. But I kept the memory with me of that show for years.
It’s a Wonderful Life is still one of my favorite records. I literally wore out one cd back in the day and had to buy another. I sing Sparklehorse to my daughter Hope now almost daily. I know I’m not the only one to hold this band/this man in such a high regard. We are blessed to have the music and memory. I had a friend that knew and toured with Mark and said what we pretty much already know. He wasn’t a happy guy. He could be what seemed to be abrasive. He couldn’t sleep on the tour bus because of what happened to him when he tried to kill himself before. It’s sad. It’s an interesting side note that he worked with and admired 2 other fellow souls that are/were sick. (Vic Chestnutt and Daniel Johnston.) and they still created such beauty.
One thing to be learned from this is that depression can be just as deadly as any addiction. I urge everyone to talk to someone, anyone if you feel you’re in that hopeless void that even the coolest motherfucker like Mark Linkous fell into. We don’t need to lose more beauty. We don’t need to shift the balance all the way from the light. We need these things, music, art, film, photos, to keep up the good fight and to never let it go. His music made me constantly slow down and see the beauty even in the mundane. Some will say they see the depression and sadness in his music, and I do too. But I also see happiness and the search for it. See: shade and honey. Hundreds of sparrows. Don’t take my sunshine away.
I read the news yesterday on the LA Times website. I had to reread it 2 or 3 times before it seemed real. It rained all day. I hope he would have liked that.
-----D

i can't stay away

2010-02-23T23:50:00.001-08:00

It’s a little after 11 pm on a Tuesday night. Everyone in this quiet house is resting sweetly. I am listening to the noises of the night. The hum of the fridge. The traffic slowing outside. It is Feb 23rd 2010. In a few hours my little girl Hope Lennon Alexandria will be a full 2 weeks old. I must say, and I know that everyone says it, but she is the sweetest most beautiful girl ever. She is sleeping now and in a couple of hours she will be up again. So let’s get to the point.
Looking back, it says that my last blog update was back in July of 09. A lot of things have gone on since then and I feel that, in time, I will get back to then and maybe shed light on some of those things. It seems odd that say that after 4 years on myspace and running a blog/music site, I felt it best to just step back for a while. I say this in earnest and with a small smudge of disappointment, but I haven’t really written much of anything since then, nor have I played any music either.
I am not sure really what has happened so long ago now, in a different light, in a different life, but after 4 years I felt like it was just the natural time to give up for a while. I had been playing shows around Vegas pretty regularly but my heart just wasn’t in it anymore. I felt like I had said so many things in songs, in poetry, in blogs, that there just wasn’t much else to continue on about. Another contributor of course, is/was the fact that maybe for the first time in my life, I am geniunely content and happy most days. That right there sometimes is the death of art.
It’s funny, I’m the guy that would stay up until daybreak draining the bottles, pounding the keys, listening to music, and now I’m sitting here downstairs in the dark typing by the muted light of a flashlight that I hope doesn’t burn out before I’m done. I’m as quiet as can be. Can’t wake the family. I like saying that.
So for various reasons I will get into later, I just stopped writing. Music was gone too, though I never fully put down the guitar. In fact, on christmas I home recorded 2 songs as a present for my sweetie and my daughter Hope who was in my sweetie’s belly at the time. It’s weird because it feels like 2009 came and went in a fury and blurry whir. And I don’t know about where you are; but here spring is almost on the rise. I’d like to say I’ve changed in some ways, I think we all like to think that, but maybe I have. I certainly don’t feel as wild as I used to and I have found a few grays spread out across my head.
For 4 years or more I used myspace and myspace was the place to be and the place where I housed my writing and music. Some day soon I am definitely going to need to go through it all and archive it because if it goes, a lot of that stuff is gone. I no longer have all the original files. Hopefully soon I will get back into music. I’m not sure what I want to do in that regard. I definitely feel like playing drums in a group again since I play almost every day or I did before Hope was born. In my gut there has been this longing urge to play some political punk/folk.
The funny thing is, in the 8 months or whatever it has been that I’ve been gone from this world; myspace has been deserted like a pool with shit in it and facebook has taken over the reins of everyone’s time. (There’s also twitter, but who cares about any of them really?) They all are boring to me and do not consume much of my time these days. I usually just check to see if anyone has sent me anything. (They don’t usually, just the lame ass*ville request.)
It’s strange to see how when you step back for a while from everything how much everything changes. I don’t even understand the new music that’s on the rock* (see shit) music radio stations. I haven’t listened to those kinds of stations in years, but at least it used to be recognizable. I’m more of an ipod, npr kind of person anyway, but still. Movies have also become more stagnant, lacking. Politics. Same shit as always. A lot more people out of work. A lot. And no jobs coming either. But what can you do, some will always say.
As for me, now, I feel like I am doing okay. Periods of sobriety and nothing like I was before. I will try and be as faithful as I can to writing again. I miss it. At the end oitf the day I feel a bit empty without it. Just a little part. There was a time once when everything hinged on coming home and sitting at the typer for a while. I feel like doing it again. I just can’t stay away!
You can expect the usual and also new things and ideas. I’m basically just going to do the same thing I have in the past and talk about shit. Movies, music, people, politics, whatever. If not for anyone or anything but the fact I am writing again.

So now it’s time to kiss the girl and the daughter. Climb into bed.
do it all over again……d

in a dream that was no dream at all

2009-07-01T21:10:00.000-07:00

I dread the thought to think of who I was or who I will be without you. I surrender my heart and all my armies and even the moon and sun, just to be in your arms again. Our sacred garden. Our little family. I loved you in Texas and I loved you when I was throwing up the mornings after. I love you now and I’ll love you straight through. Let the bridges wash out. Let the tidal waves come. Burn down the cities, you and me, we can always go on the run. And I come to you now and beg to bathe your feet. I come to you now as the man you love. As the shade from the tree. As the tears of hope. As this long filled desire. You are each and every dream. You are each hunger and kiss and each dream I do not want to wake from. I want to lie with you in the shade of the pines and dream up our new world together. I want for you to take me in your arms just so and place your hand in my and place your cheek to mine and tell me we will always have this, be this, feel this love. And I will tell you of the sorrows I no longer have. The sorrows you helped to slay. I will kiss you for each day you’ve been alive, for each day yet to be. I will hold you in my arms while the soldiers overtake the cities and burn books in the courtyards. Come what may, I am the man who loves and my back is strong, my will stronger, my love stronger yet. With you I have the heart of a tugboat. You are every song I’ve ever sung. You are each tear I cried from happiness that was, that is yet to be. And I see you in my dreams, in the royal gardens with all the colors and flowers alight. Holding a child in your arms, wearing all white. The birds singing their song, our song, god’s song. And I’ve found peace and I’ve found peace in you and I’ve found peace I will not let go of. You are every moment and every dream and every prayer I’ve uttered softly to the midnights. And you are no ghost and you are no phantom you are beauty alive and to me you are the world entire so set astride with me down this road and love me until we are gone gone gone from this world.

This was a journey I had long wanted but was unprepared for.
You are absolutely, the love of my life and my life and heart is yours.

Babydoll.

the beginning of my 30th year

2009-07-01T20:39:00.000-07:00

Maybe in a sense, we’re all a little bit crazy. I know, I myself, have a few screws loose, but most of you wouldn’t have me any other way. At any other time. To start your life over at 37 must be something so difficult I cannot even imagine the rate and depth. Just really to start your life over at any age is hard and a lot of the time scary. For me, it’s like I am just finally starting my life at the ripe old age of 30. So many things have changed, so many things changing, so many good things happening.

It really feels like for the first time in my life I am happy genuinely and without condition or restraint. Don’t know if you know this or not, but things are a lot better happy than when you’re unhappy. Simple things, like eating a meal are actually enjoyable. In a sense it’s funny that I just turned 30 and am sort of growing up a little. Remember, I’m the boy who always said he’d stay young and dumb inside. It’s funny because I am a 30 year old man who still loves Batman and watching the occasional vintage wrestling match. I still have a hard time sleeping away from home or, for that matter, sleeping at all. But I’ve always been that way. Even when I was a child. Just always a beast who always had problems falling and staying asleep.

Have you ever gone to the library and taken a look at the newspapers from the day you were born? You know the ones on microfilm that you have to spin the thing for each new page. I did that once. Long ago. When I was younger, like from the ages of 18-21 I was very poor. I never really had a job. I just loafed about toiling away my days at the junior college. I literally lived off of 2 dollars a day. That and the trade my friends would get from the radio station they worked at for the awful John’s Burgers. But 2 dollars a day meant I could get 2 whopper juniors at Burger King or any variant of the 99 cent menu. I walked everywhere because I didn’t have a car. I hardly slept. I spent most of my time hanging out with people that I thought I’d be friends with forever. It turns out that wasn’t the case, but still. In those times, they were the most important people in my life. Shit, they were my laugh. In a way, I look back on those days fondly, as the salad days of my life. True, I was excruciatingly poor and hungry all the time, but I was free. I did whatever I wanted. Wrote countless songs and stories and poems. Slept little or too much. Read all the time and watched movies like there was no tomorrow. A simple life. A poor life. But I believed in my Buddhist way that that was how you found peace or god or happiness or artistry.

But I also spent a lot of time at the library. This was in the days before DSL or high speed internet was affordable, so I’d go to the library to do my webbing. So one day I decided to see what was going on in the world when I was born. I just remember being surprised how many drive in movie theaters there was in Bakersfield at that time. Also the Gas Shortage thing was going on. Something to do with Iran and gas rationing. Nothing much of note that happened. Much like my birthdays to be.

Of course around your birthday you start to think about aging and maybe even a little about death and what that’s like. But also, I thought about my kids. I wonder how they’ll be. What kind of personalities will they have? Will they even like me? Do I have enough love to give them? Will I be a total fuckup or will he like Batman also? Will he/she like music and film as much as me? Will they be jocks? You do little things too. Like you wonder what color their eyes will be. Color of hair. Will you be blessed and they take after you looks wise or will you be screwed and they take after their grandparents. I’m getting older and it’s natural to wonder about these things. And it’s a wondrous thought indeed, but thought provoking nonetheless.

Like you wonder if they’d get along with their siblings. I didn’t get along with mine in the least bit. Mostly you just wonder if you’ll be enough. That’s a thought that comes around often enough.

Have you ever met that person that sets your heart ablaze? I have.
Have you ever kissed someone just so, and the world seemed righted at last? I have.
The beginning and ending of each day for me are the same. I think of her. Wonder where she is, how she is. And why she isn’t with you. Inside I feel so alive, so grateful I am given this chance, this person. Someone who’s eyes sends shivers down my spine. I once was the tale of the big nothing filled with emptiness. Now I’m like someone who was in the water flailing about and someone has thrown me a preserver and pulled me out of the current. The big nothing now filled with love and tenderness and days upon days of smiles and laughter. Sometimes I feel like the words just don’t come through or come out right and there is no real way to say how thankful I am to know this person. To love this person. To have this person love me. But I am. I am and I am. Forever indebted to her. The woman of my dreams. The answer to my prayers. No more throw away mornings. No more regrettable nights. Sometimes when she is in my arms, I think of how lucky I am how lucky I am, how lucky I am. 9-10 years ago, I’d thought none of this possible.

This happiness. This twist in the tale. This love.

And now the moon is out. I am longing for her again. Every time she leaves…

I guess I began to think about kids when I read The Road for the first time back in 2006. The relationship the father and son have in that book is something of pure unadulterated love. A love I only imagined, didn’t know was possible.

Bruce Springsteen Book of Dreams
I'm standing in the backyardListening to the party InsideTonight I'm drinkin' in the forgivenessThis life providesThe scars we carry remain but the pain slips away it seemsOh won't you baby be in my book of dreamsI'm watchin' you through the windowWith your girlfriends from back homeYou're showin' off your dressThere's laughter and a toastFrom your daddy to the prettiest bride he's ever seenOh won't you baby be in my book of dreamsIn the darkness my fingers slip across your skinI feel your sweet replyThe room fades away and suddenly I'm way up highJust holdin' you to meAs through the window the moonlight streamsOh won't you baby be in my book of dreamsNow the ritual begins'Neath the wedding garland we meet as strangersThe dance floor is alive with beautyMystery and dangerWe dance out 'neath the stars' ancient light into the darkening trees

god bless our love

2009-06-24T21:53:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, a lot of my time recently has been utilized doing things like converting dvd’s to the new ipod I bought myself for reaching the age 30. As I’ve stated before, I never thought I’d get to this age, or if I did, I never thought in about 1,000 19999 years, I’d be happy and spend most of everyday feeling pretty good. Pretty normal. I had an ipod in the past, like the 2nd generation ones, and they weren’t great, even though it was an 80gb one, it constantly didn’t work right. It was a green screen without color. No video. Well the new one I bought myself is amazing. 160 gigs and I still haven’t filled but 40 gigs maybe.

I’ve been spending my time ripping cds, ripping movies, podcasts, loading loading loading up. In a couple of days I turn 30. have I mentioned that yet? And we’re headed to Los Angeles, to catch the Getty, the Museum of Tolerance, and the Griffith Observatory. Also, for whatever reason and god bless her, Rochelle wants to see the town of my birth. So that’s on the agenda for the first couple of hours. I mean, there isn’t much to see. And anyway, I am going to be back there in Mid-August. Well actually early August, for Jordan’s wedding and then in late August where I will be permanent until the New Year.

I should also note that my days have been spent so happily and blessed; most of you would not recognize me anymore. That boy I was, the suicide kid, he’s gone. I am filled with a love I am filled with love I am filled with a love that transcends any day or night, nor falter of the heart. This woman I love, I’d swear she carved the Grand Canyon. She painted the sky with stars. She laid down the grid work. She is the equator. And here I am these days. Wondering at the luck.

Earlier tonight I drew a picture with a heart that said: Share. Believe. This life is ours. My heart is open. Inside the drawing of the heart is a single eyeball. Peering out.

I used to write that I once I was young and now I am old. But the truth is once I was young and I now am getting older with love in my life that makes me feel young as I am probably am. And Lennon makes all the more sense to me. This man has been a part of my life since birth. When I was less than 6 months old he was killed. My whole life my mother and father talked about John Lennon. All you need is love. Imagine no religion. I don’t believe in anything but Yoko and me. And suddenly, something I’d long studied makes sense. There is a reason, for all these years, I wanted to name one of my children Lennon. His sense of his family. His little family. This love. That love. We can change the world. It’s in all of our hearts. It’s in mine. It’s in hers.

In a way, I am sorry it’s so anti-climactic. All I want is this peace I’ve found to last and last. Maybe the man you watched all along wondering what’s next won’t like what’s next in the context of my life. Because all I ever wanted was to feel all right.

And now I am.

What was it you all wanted? My blood? You already knew my heart. I hope you know it still.

God is a concept, By which we can measure, Our pain, I'll say it again, God is a concept, By which we can measure, Our pain, I don't believe in magic, I don't believe in I-ching, I don't believe in bible, I don't believe in tarot, I don't believe in Hitler, I don't believe in Jesus, I don't believe in Kennedy, I don't believe in Buddha, I don't believe in mantra, I don't believe in Gita, I don't believe in yoga, I don't believe in kings, I don't believe in Elvis, I don't believe in Zimmerman, I don't believe in Beatles, I just believe in me, Yoko and me, And that's reality. The dream is over, What can I say? The dream is over, Yesterday, I was dreamweaver, But now I'm reborn, I was the walrus, But now I'm John, And so dear friends, You just have to carry on, The dream is over.

diary

2009-06-16T20:39:00.000-07:00

Dear Rochelle. It’s almost 1 in the morning. The night for this early June is awfully cool for this time of year. So unexpected. Such a delight. I can hear the leaves blowing in the wind. Hear the branches dancing. The moon is shrouded by clouds, but it is there. The roads stand silent and dark. Black against the night. The little sparrowhawks are gliding under the street lights catching the bugs. The dog sits next to me, looking at me. Waiting for you. Looking at me waiting for you.

In 12 days I turn 30. It was no easy feat and I am still surprised daily anew at this twist of events. This turn around. This newly found love for life and the daily quest to make it some permanent, not some transitory thing. The age 30. It’s funny as a child I didn’t know what turning 30 meant and in a way; I still don’t. I’m getting older. I’ve run some hard miles. I’ve waited so long. I spent so many nights sad, locked away from the world. Now we are a part of it. Tonight, the world is still, love. And my arms are empty.

There are times in my dreams where you are just slightly out of reach. Or there is someone trying harm you and I try my best to put a stop to it. There are times in the waking world as well. It seems all my life I was waiting for you brown hair and all, to come and spend the days laughing. Peaceful. Sleeping. Loving. And here you are.

In 12 days I am 30. In the months and years after---what then? What will we see? Who will we be? Is there any waking from this dream?

Sometimes it’s something as simple as a hairbrush on the sink that isn’t mine. Or that stray long dark hair in the sinkbowl. Other times it’s our toothbrushes kissing in the cup. Side by side. Or a pair of shoes left behind. The crumpled unmade bed where you and I have spent so many laughing times. Sometimes it’s waking around dawn and seeing your face sleeping next to mine and just when I start to despair and feel like you’re 1000 miles away; you awake and you take my hand, place it on your belly….

Right now, the only things I need are:
Your Kiss.
A good pair of shoes.
maybe some bread and wine to carry along with us down this road.

The little desert bats are flying around in this low lying twilight. Children laughing across the street. Children laughing within me. You are my blood brother. My Tom Sawyer. My Huck Finn. My headlight miracle, my flashlight dream.

My heart.

this mountain

2009-06-05T20:38:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting here now and

the daylight is all but gone.
Just a faint glow of blue

outside of the window.
There’s a tree growing somewhere---

I don’t know why I just had

that thought
But
There is a tree growing somewhere
& the beats of the wings of birds

perhaps an insect

flying in the wind

& these things are happening

in the world

& somewhere a wave roils

& rolls & builds

& hits the sand

with that selfsame crash

echoingall down

the coastline.
I poke open the curtains

you have been away

from my arms

far too long---love

& my dog is watching the street

where nothing moves

save the wind.
In this post-sundown world

I am ever much a part of you

as you are of me

& the two become so fused

they hardly become

recognizable.
Is this what they see?
When they see us or they see me or they see you

they just see us.
Like one is not imagined

without the other.
Somewhere a child laughs
Somewhere else another is conceived.
Somewhere a man sitsin a room

with oak paneling
Bowing a cello.
This

the

world

& there you are

I want to parade you

aroundlike the newest kill

& watch as the boys

grow ill with envy

thumb in their pockets

sharpen their knives

wait for me to trip up.
Around here,

the quail have all birthed their young

& you can watch them run,
Birds and their trees,

don’t know if I’ve said this much

but most birds

are monogamous choosing one partner

for their short

feathered lives.
& I love you the best.
I rob the trains.
I chase down the Wells Fargo Stagecoach.
We burn the churches

in the village square for you.
We watch as the enemy

stuffs the powder

& ball into the cannon

& sends their spark

into the night.
All becauseI haveyou.
Many years from now

or many days

may we rest on some long

hot afternoon

in the shade
You’re smiling’cos I said

god made the way of the world

this

and no other.

when i'm gone

2009-06-05T18:04:00.000-07:00

So let’s take the time to stretch our newly found legs and newly found freedom for a bit. After using Myspace for 4 years as a place to house my music, my blogs, the poetry of my heart, I had to shut it down. It got to the point where people who weren’t strong enough to just ignore me and my writing, kept on and kept on reading and making issues out of non-issues. I’ve always said and I’ve always felt that I write as though no one is reading or else I couldn’t write at all and I’ve always said that I can write about whatever I want and so I did. I said horrible things about myself, about my family, my country, ex-lovers. Now we come to recent history where there have been things going on, relationships ending, relationships beginning and those who don’t even know me began to spy and pry incessantly.

Normally I am okay with it and I was for a long time. If I remember correctly back on May 4th I decided to move the blog to avoid stepping on anyone’s toes and it was a rather hard decision to make. At the time, I didn’t move it. I kept on and stuck to my principles which are I’m going to write and you can do whatever the hell you want with it. Well people couldn’t control themselves and though I do have the bad habit of stirring the shit every once and a while; I really tried to stay true to myself and the woman I love and keep on track and just go on living. Which is exactly what we’re doing, but these other people are not. They’re either stuck in some past that isn’t there anymore or they’re just torturing themselves for no reason. The point being is that they were seeking me out, not vice versa and their feelings were hurt and they made up things that didn’t happen and decided in their own minds who I am.

The funny thing is that I kept it so light until the end there. I live my life by a certain standard and at this old age and after living for as long as I have, as unhappy as I was, I don’t have time for anger or drama in my life now. I just don’t. And I get angry at myself for getting angry and allowing those negative feelings to drown out my reason and I posted things in anger that I shouldn’t have. Though I also posted something rather inspirational and understanding, all anyone wants to see is the negative side reflected.

It’s a weird thing that happens that I’ve been talking about for a while now with our whole retarded double standard ridden society. None of us want to be judged, yet these people feel all the need in the world to judge others and then when you hold up the mirror in front of their face you’re the world’s biggest asshole. And this is a problem with lots of people, not just these few I am now speaking. Our entire society judges women on the way they look, especially if they’re on tv, and we all want to cast our judging eyes outward yet we’ve hardly the strength to look within to see how we’re actually behaving ourselves. That being said, I have really been on my best behavior throughout this whole stupid boring ordeal, give or take a couple of nights in anger where I posted some stupid things, to later take them down. I really have tried to live my life and be the bigger person and just let it all slide. I mean, haven’t we personally been through enough bullshit in this life?

Does life last forever? No, it does not and we are getting older and some people need to get a fucking clue and get over themselves and understand that this isn’t something that’s just happening and some passing thing. It’s real and here.

I’ve spent a good part of my life dealing with my own anger. Anger at myself mostly, but also friends, family, this country and I’ve come to the point now where I don’t have time for it. I don’t want it in my life. I spent so long being sad and angry at myself, at the world; I now realize that was all time wasted.

Though I did wait just long enough to find the right one. And find the right one I did.

And let me tell you, friends, she’s more than even I could have dreamed and I’ve spent my whole life in a dream that I always trying to grasp, but she is a dream one does not wake from because she is real. And let me tell you about her.

First is that she is completely amazingly beautiful. She makes me feel at home within my own skin which no one has ever done before. She has taught me how to smile. She shows me the world is not a cruel and random thing. That all is not chaos and there is rhyme and there is reason. Her eyes send arrows of beauty and life and light into my once very darkened heart. My heart was once a room without doors or windows where no light penetrated and no one could enter nor exit. She tore down those walls. She has taught me the meanings of love. She lays with her head on my chest just so and she’ll laugh when I say something dumb and when we’re together, it’s like no one else even exists and time itself seems to halt. The first night I spent with her was downtown amongst thousands of spectators though I only noticed the one. and she did as well.

We don’t really do much other than be together and it’s so organic and simple and it was even from the first time so natural. She’ll touch my arm and all is warm and all is well and the heart flutters flutters flutters. We have a hard time trying to watch tv or a movie at home because other things start to happen, what seems like always. She’s bright. She’s funny. Most importantly she’s got such a good heart and such a wonderful soul and all of my belief is in this person and in the reality that this will work. I’ve got a strong back and my mind is fit. I can labor on and on for you babydoll and I will.

It’s now June 5th. In 22 days I turn 30. A big feat going to be tackled. We’re going to do some traveling. She wants to see where I was born. I want to show her the town of my birth. The town that haunts me yet and carries over into every song or every word I write or world I dream. I want this life to begin, I am ready. 30 years gone. Man, what a thought. 30 years gone that aren’t coming back. 30 years. A lot can happen, a lot has happened. I’ve lived and I’ve died and been born again and again. I say out loud to no one in particular, thank you for that sun. Thank you for my time on this earth. Thank you for knowing me. Thank you for loving me. I am so fortunate to be alive and I am ready for this world. I am ready to grow old. I am ready to watch our children run around. I say thank you for the birds. Thank you for that blue sky. Thank you for helping me cope with my broken heart. Thank you for not letting me die all those times I tried and willed it. God, I am willing now do not let me go do not let me down.

So I haven’t given up hope but I feel like I should mention it. My cat, Thelonius Monkey has been gone for 5 days now and I don’t know if he’s coming back. There are coyotes here and there a lot of cats too but he went out Sunday morning and hasn’t been back. This cat, one tough motherfucker, who just turned 5 and lived with me in probably 5 different towns and cities. My cat. My buddy. My tough motherfucker who used to bring home birds and kangaroo rats and any other god damned thing. I love you, buddy. Please come back.

Thinking of that and all of what I’ve typed I sort of came up with the beginning of my funeral playlist. I know it’s a little morbid but I think it’s important think about it and get it out there. Especially if something happens to you. It’s important to talk about what you want done with your body if you die. How you want to be buried and cremated. Or whether or not you want to be left on life-support indefinitely. If you want your organs to be donated. For me, I want my organs donated, I want to be cremated and spread across the Carrizo Plain. Do not keep me on some machine. Let me go. But anyway, here’s the list so far.

Sleepwalk---Santo and Johnny.
What a Wonderful World---Louis Armstrong
Imagine---John Lennon
Man of the Hour---Pearl Jam.
Keep Me in Your Heart---Warren Zevon
Pancho and Lefty---Townes Van Zandt.
remember the mountain bed---wilco (as written by my beloved woody guthrie)

(Maybe as a joke Pop that pussy by 2 live crew and With Arms wide open by Creed)

Well.
D

Shadows are fallin' and I'm runnin' out of breath
Keep me in your heart for a while
If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less
Keep me in your heart for a while
When you get up in the mornin' and you see that crazy sun
Keep me in your heart for a while
There's a train leavin' nightly called "When All is Said and Done"
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sha-lalala-lala-li-lalala-lo
Keep me in your heart for a while
Sha-lalala-lala-li-lalala-lo
Keep me in your heart for a while

Sometimes when you're doin' simple things around the house
Maybe you'll think of me and smile
You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for a while
Hold me in your thoughts
Take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes
Keep the fires lit
And I will be right next to you

Engine driver's headed north up to Pleasant Stream
Keep me in your heart for a while
These wheels keep turnin' but they're runnin' out of steam
Keep me in your heart for a while

oh E, you do it again

2009-06-03T01:28:00.000-07:00

The Longing, The Eels
The longing is a pain
A heavy pressure on my chest
It rarely leaves
My day becomes a quest
to try not to think about her
And all that she brings
Forget about her magic
All the beautiful things

surely there are other things to life
but i cant think of one single thing
that matters more
than just to see her
her smile
her touch
her smell
her laugh

the longing is a friend
a way to stay close
and feel like she's here
and feel like she knows
that when i say i would die for her
it's not just words
i really would
and to make the world a safer place for her
well i believe i really could

surely there are other things to life
but i cant think of one single thing
that matters more
than just to see her
her tears
her sorrow
her faults
her doubt
.....
i love them all.

I am having a relapse

2009-06-03T00:45:00.000-07:00

Damn, it feels so good to back. I feel like having a relapse.

It is the end of a wondrously good Tuesday night. I sit here a happy man. So many great things have transpired in the past month and now I can share them with you all without restraint or without wondering who’s going to misconstrue what or who’s going to make a situation out of a non-situation. But for now, we can take the time and stretch our legs and get reacquainted with one another like we haven’t met before.

My nights recently and days for that matter, have been spent in extreme desire and passion. From parking lot to empty desert to crowded movie theater; it abounds all. My nights have been spent staying up late on Monday nights and going to the record store for the midnight sale of the new releases that come out on Tuesday. So far over the past few weeks I got the new Jason Lytle record. Last night was the new Rancid, the new Dave Matthews Band, the new Manson (came out last week), and the new eels record.

There is something so satisfying about this, I must say. Many things, actually. The first thing is; to me, waiting for something you’ve been waiting for, for so long to come out that you go out and seek it out and hunt it down and hold it in your hands is amazing. The other thing is standing there in the record store with the other music dorks waiting around for them to announce it’s time to get your record buying on. And I use the term dork not lightly. These are music geeks. The other great thing too is standing around with her and seeing her smile and wait like the rest of us for her new cd (The DMB disc. Those of you who know me, know I think he’s brilliant, just not into his music.) There’s something about her getting as excited as me about a new record that’s just amazing and warms my heart to no end.

I should also say that over the course of the past month I’ve also purchased the new Iron & Wine b-sides record (almost a waste of money since I already had nearly all of the tracks), the new Bob Dylan (the best thing about it is the title, Together Through Life.) the new Eminem out of morbid curiosity (not bad) and a bunch of singles from Townes Van Zandt. (very good.) oh and the new Manchester Orchestra which is pretty good not great.

I’d say of the few records that I’ve given a lot of time and attention to so far, the Jason Lytle record is absolutely amazing though it is also very very lonely. It reminds me of myself in a way, which is why I’ve always loved him. The entire record is about being alone and it’s funny, because when I go back to read my old blogs, they are all about that as well. Oddly, the new Eminem as well has provided endless entertainment. The guy has basically lost his mind and then got it back again and wrote a crazy insane genius record. Also from the very little I’ve heard, the new eels and the new Manson record are really really good too.

That’s another great thing about music, I just realized. Turning someone you love onto your music and they onto theirs. It’s a great connection to be had if you haven’t had it yet.

So there’s been that going on, as well as going to movies a few times. So far in the past month or so, we’ve seen The Soloist. (Wasn’t great.) Tyson, the documentary about Mike Tyson which was surprisingly compelling and somewhat informative, if not too short. Also a Mexican made movie called Sin Nombre that was very good but falls into the overly used cliché at the end. I think I may be forgetting one, maybe not, but we went to the midnight premiere last week of Drag me to hell which was a lot of fun but not really what I was expecting.

I played a show at the beginning of last month that turned out to be one of the best nights I’d ever had in my life. I can’t go into too many specifics, but I played a show, drank some beer with my love, and later ate a BLT after a wonderful parking lot make out session. Well, I guess that was a bit specific.

I’m sorry to report, friends: that old me you were used to is somehow now almost gone and forgotten entirely. If that’s at the expense of being bored, then so what. I sure as hell lived my life the other way for years and now that I’ve gained some happiness in my life, I’m not looking back. I can’t afford to.

I kinda feel like we should ease into this new format. Like we’re dating. I’ve got so many stories and so many things to say that this blog will be up and running yet and for a long long time. So settle in. take care. And you know I’ll always be back.

At the end of this month I hit a landmark. At the end of this month I turn 30 years of age. To be honest, I never really truly believed I’d make it this long. Even if you asked me 6 months ago, I’d say it was sketchy at best. Now. Well now, friends. You might not like me now. These really are the last days of the suicide kid. At least for now.

change

2009-05-04T03:23:00.000-07:00

Cat out of the bag. Ton of bricks dropped. Yes, it’s true after almost 4 full years; I can’t believe it’s been that long. Seems like it was just the other day I was living in Bakersfield in a house with my office with the window that faced the street and I first stumbled on to myspace. The idea of blogging seemed strange and novel at the time and I laugh when I read back to first dozen or so blogs. They’re all about music or making music or things that just happened to be going on during that time. Most of that first year of blogging, 2005-2006, was all sort of banal subjects or me talking politics or just whatever was on my mind at the time. Then it all rapidly changed in June 2006 when my 2 year long relationship imploded. Then it became a confessional. It became a way to survive. I felt so broken inside for so long.

The blog became a sort of immersion therapy. It became a way to make my feelings known. To let friends see what I was dealing with at any given moment. Sober, drunk, loaded, unloaded, happy, miserable, all the while dealing with my broken heart. The blog became a tool by which to better understand myself. It’s weird to look too, if you go back over all the old archives, the waves, the peaks and valleys, and all the while; the constant yearning, the broken heart, the melancholy. It has always been touch and go, at best and it’s been a lot of miles. There are parts of my life that were very extreme. Either very happy or very sad and it’s all been documented on here.

I’ve always said and practiced the fact that I indeed do wear my heart on my sleeve. Every feeling, every moment, every embarrassment, every new relationship or old ones that imploded; I’ve discussed here. Every childhood memory of childhood despair.

Then we must flashback to the summer of 2008. I call it inevitably growing up a little but also, with the aid of the tremendously beautiful HBO show called Six Feet Under, I start to feel a change coming. I begin to understand that it’s all right who I am. That in actuality I’m really a good person that just is too honest and emotionally honest. That comes from the whole argument of not understanding the concept of emotional boundaries as a child that had a less than stellar upbringing.

I finally gain the understanding that we are not guaranteed tomorrow in this life and this life is all there is. The people in our lives better be people well worth having around and this meant for me, cutting a few lose that weren’t really healthy people to have as friends. I learn that the only ways we live on after we’re dead is either through our children or the memories and love we leave behind to the people in our lives. I learned that you need to properly gauge what in this life you want. What kind of life do you want? I learned that what I want is to live a good life and not hurt anyone. That what I want is to be loved and love a girl equally. I learned that you should what get you pay into people. That what I want are children. Happiness.

And I learned that these things are not easy to come by. They are not guaranteed but I’ve learned that I am able and willing to work for these things. Better than that, I realized I deserve a little happiness myself. No need to always want to be the big nothing. It’s taken me years and it’s a daily process but I’ve slowly let go the guilt I carried around. And when you look back at 4 years of blogs, you can see that this struggle was not easy.

I believe change is good even when it hurts like hell or is scary or ventures into unknown directories. I believe that we all have a karmic debt we pay into and detract from. I believe sooner or later karma will come to collect if you’ve done something bad. Which is why I try to live an honest life. It’s taken me this long to learn these things. I’m sprinting towards 30 scared as hell of the world out there, but longing to meet it headlong anyway.

I think at a certain age, for me it’s been this year that you basically become the person you’re always going to be. I’m always going to be this boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and awes the wonder of beauty in this world. Age after a time literally just becomes another number when your experiences that make you or your personality, or your beauty, will always be self evident. I had this conversation the other day where my friend and I recently discovered that we’re actually pretty cool as people and very in tune with our feelings and likes and dislikes. It took long enough.

Most people never find themselves and I’m fortunate to have at least acknowledged that my whole life. All the while, revealing more and more about myself to myself along the way. Putting more of the puzzle pieces together as I go. I’m an intelligent sensitive human with a lot of love to give. Now, group hug.

We go through this life and no one’s perfect. It seems like many people are unhappy. I find myself that often. But I look for ways to change it. Or I at least acknowledge and understand that the thing making me unhappy is something I know is bad for me. We owe it to ourselves as sons and daughters of this brittle round world to find happiness. If we are the person or the thing bringing the unhappiness to the other person or thing; we should understand when we are cut lose. We should know that sometimes the hardest lesson of love is knowing that really loving someone sometimes is letting them go.

I realized I have bared my soul nakedly the past 4 years on this site. The blog and site itself in recent months has hit a spike in amount of views of visits. Someone out there is reading this thing and I can only hope in some way they’ve learned something from me. I can only say that this thing is like something I want to walk away from but I don’t know if I will ever be able to.

As people we grow every day. We listen with our hearts. We face the wind and we wait. We make use of this life. Find it. What other tale to tell is there? Find it. Are you there? Do you see? Our hearts are pure. All intentions served as good and just. Our innocence should not go unnoticed nor unchecked. For this is my heart. These are the things I can offer. Write down in the ledger book of time where you were and where you are going. Draw for me, baby, a map of the world and point to me where we are. Write your name in the moist sand and watch the ocean reclaim. I’ve got naught to do but wait.

Dream for me the world anew and make it just so. Remember. Make a litany of your love. Polish the stones with your memory. Sing for me those sparrow songs. Cast your doubt aside. Wake me from my slumber with a kiss. Wipe the dust from my brain.
Keep me in your heart for a while.