five from the vault...

good morning, dear readers. this morning finds me listening to a jeff tweedy bootleg* and looking through old song lyrics of mine. and since the main impetus for my writings here [besides, of course, self- indulgence and misguided attempts at humor] are to keep creativity in motion [slow motion: 'thelogians'] and exorcise my stage fright, i thought i might take this weekend opportunity to share some of my older writings with you. these are in no particular order.

fat man & little boy.**

[...like the moon now, nothing but minerals.
the stones were hot. everybody else
in the neighborhood was...]

fat man & little boy walked through the garden,
the flowers all avoiding their gaze.
fat man & little boy walked through the garden,
leaving oiled footprints in their wake.

fat man & little boy sat on the hilltop,
their bloodshot eyes like little stars.
fat man & little boy sat on the hilltop,
drunk with with flagrant disregard.

[...like the moon now, nothing but minerals.
the stones were hot. everybody else
in the neighborhood was...]

fat man & little boy made their way on home,
proud of their day in the sun.
fat man & little boy made their way on home,
pleased.. so pleased with what they'd done.

but there was no one left to go home to,
everyone else had gone away.
all the trees in the forest and the children in the chorus
had been neutralized by the flames.

[with both a bang and a whimper we were all shocked and awed.]

living now.

"there's no telling time," he said.
"just an empty road and my saxophone...
burned my home.
all my pictures and telephones."

"the whores in their sunday best are
following me out the door.
but they can't come.
i'll go alone.
i deserve this now."

"i'm on my cloud.
world's behind, and my music loud.
see you around...
all this time and i'm finally living now."

"little fears have now all left me
secrets and shame i leave behind.
i might write, still i'll try but for me
there's no more telling time."

"i'm on my cloud.
world's behind, and my music loud.
see you around...
all this time and i'm finally living now."

untitled.***

sister love and the princess twins were walking proudly down the street
just like beautiful bridesmaids blowing kisses at the priest
taking delight in the sailor's eyes as they slowly make their rounds
always drinking for free and laughing as they melt all the snow in town

well the man in the moon and his mistress have been parading around rome
making love and drinking champagne while his faithful wife she waits at home
and even though all her cookbooks tell her that everything is going to be fine
the day's gonna have to go down in divorce when from the truth comes out the lies

karma comes to those who wait and don't honor their end of the deal
chesspawns in a game of chance that they really believe ain't real
see the main and the moon and his mistress certainly got their's in the end
and the same can be said for sister love and the beloved princess twins

song in november.****

she left the room in a fit of rage... he stood there motionless, not knowing what to say.
he never knew she felt that way, he said he would've changed.
he knew she was the world to him and that that world had to remain.

for weeks he couldn't sleep... days without a bite to eat.
there was nothing anyone could do to keep him standing on his feet.
everywhere he looked he saw her, knowing he'd never see her again...
all the stones he'd thrown and now all alone and all the letters he never sent...

all the letters he never sent...
all the things he never said...
foolish pride now given way to regret.

all that's left now's november, that ragged bitch of wind and cold...
an empty bed... a broken head... making rainmen out of snow.

digging through the trash.

there's no spending money on our salvation...
there's little left of the foundation.
there's no blame, only shame, dressed- up and drove us away from the things
we used to be.

it's a certain kind of sadness attached.
the only things now that i have left...
a broken promise,
an empty home.

[altogether]... all alone.

we used to be the songs i'd sing...
a lucky guy had everything.

now i'm sleeping on sand,
and digging through the trash.

i'm not proud of what i've done...
and i'm not proud of what i've become, either.
i just get up in the morning now.

we used to be the songs i'd sing...
all that time meant not a thing.

now i'm sleeping on sand,
digging through the trash.

we used to be the songs i'd write...
blanket warmth and candlelight.

now i'm left blind on the sidewalk,
pencils in my cup.

we used to talk like human beings...
you used to love the songs i'd sing.

now i don't sing anymore.

we used to laugh like little ducks...
we used to love each other once.

we used to love each other.

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hope you enjoyed those. looking forward to the next time we meet.

~lee.

*http://www.canyouseethesunset.com/2007/11/jeff-tweedy-live-at-abbey-pub-12506.html

**special thanks to kurt vonnegut.

***this is my oldest set of still- active lyrics. i wrote them over ten years ago and they have been through so many different permutations and whatnot that by now they gotta feel like nicole kidman's face. i've never been able to decide on a suitable chorus.

****my second oldest set of still- active lyrics... i remember writing them in a friend's apartment in athens in probably the winter of 1998. they still evoke a little bit of sadness to me, which is something i'm really proud of. special thanks to ee cummings.

*****i've been rewriting this one since i first posted it, but am stuck on that line. sorry.