OVERTURE
it starts with our eyes well acquainted with the dark.
then the mind was made to illuminate the heart.
and when every constellation suddenly appeared,
through telescopes and calculations,
the far was pulled so near.
but even after everything we’ve seen
we’ve barely caught a glimpse of what it means.
in the architecture of the soul
the universe began with our eyes closed.
we claim our lands,
we tame our seas,
we carve our names
on the surface of history,
’til our hands get tied
by the stubborn will of gravity.
but even after everything we’ve seen
we’ve barely caught a glimpse of what it means.
in the architecture of the soul
the universe began with our eyes closed.
in the rise and fall
of a newborn’s chest,
like the ocean swells,
we inhale, exhale and reset.
every living thing
is in this constant state of unrest.
but even after all our history
we’ve barely caught a glimpse of what it means.
in the architecture of the soul
the universe began.
even after everything we’ve seen
we’ve barely caught a glimpse of what it means.
in the architecture of the soul
the universe began with our eyes closed.
WOODWORK
i hear your heart
as it beats beneath
the sound of crashing cars.
as the sirens pour
into every street
surrounding us,
our world caves in on us
and makes us new.
all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light
when darkness crashes against it.
we only notice light
deep in the woodwork.
i still hear the song
as it rings beneath the sound
of shattered glass.
in the aftermath,
the melody, it carries on
while we come undone,
and makes us new.
all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light
when darkness crashes against it.
we only notice light
deep in the woodwork.
it’s a cruel, cruel trick
how we find ourselves
when we lose everything else.
like a train wreck,
the sound of your breathing hits my ears.
our world reappears
and it breaks us new.
all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
all our trust came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light deep in the woodwork.
I’LL KEEP YOU SAFE
i’ll keep you safe.
try hard to concentrate.
hold out your hand,
can you feel the weight of it?
the whole world at your fingertips-
don’t be, don’t be afraid.
our mistakes, they were bound to be made.
but i promise you i’ll keep you safe.
you’ll be an architect,
so pull up your sleeves
and build a new silhouette
in the skylines up ahead.
don’t be, don’t be afraid.
our mistakes, they were bound to be made.
but i promise you i’ll keep you safe.
i’ll keep you safe.
your darkness will be rewritten
into a work of fiction, you’ll see.
as you pull on every ribbon
you’ll find every secret it keeps.
your darkness will be rewritten
into a work of fiction, you’ll see.
as you pull on every ribbon
you’ll find every secret it keeps.
the sound of the branches
breaking under your feet,
the smell of the falling
and burning of leaves,
the bitterness of winter
or the sweetness of spring,
you are an artist
but your heart is your masterpiece.
and i’ll keep it safe.
dismiss the invisible
by giving it shape,
like a clockmaker fixes time
by keeping the gears in line.
don’t be, no don’t be afraid.
God knows, our mistakes will be made.
but i promise you i’ll keep you safe.
as you build up your collection
of pearls that you pulled from the deep,
a landscape more beautiful
than anything that i’ve ever seen.
the sound of the branches
breaking under your feet,
the smell of the falling
and burning of leaves,
the bitterness of winter
or the sweetness of spring,
you are an artist,
but your heart is your masterpiece.
and i’ll keep it safe.
BAD BLOOD
you fixed your eyes on us,
your flesh and blood,
a sculpture of water
and unsettled dust.
when there was bad blood in us,
we learned our lesson:
genesis to the last generation.
so we wrestle with it all-
the concept of grace
and the faithful concrete
as it breaks our fall.
our questions are all the same.
identical words; how they feel brand new against different time frames.
identical words against different time frames.
we know it all by heart-
the whole is greater
than the sum of its parts.
we’ve heard it all before-
in beauty there echoes a speck of our source.
in beauty there echoes a speck of our source.
like firewood,
burning bright
in the dead of winter,
by only a flicker
we cling to this life.
so we huddle over maps;
is it faith or prediction,
will or tradition
until we collapse?
we argue our bearings
until we collapse.
we study our story arcs-
inherently good,
or were we broken right from the start?
our hesitant fingerprints
trace every mountain,
lace every valley
until we’re convinced…
that we know it all by heart-
every blade of grass
bears our mark.
in the name of being brave,
though it’s just another word for being afraid.
we know it all by heart-
the whole is so much greater
than the sum of these parts.
we’ve heard the truth before,
for in beauty there echoes a speck of our source.
in beauty there echoes a speck of our source.
in beauty there echoes a speck of our source.
UNEVEN ODDS
i once knew your father well.
he fought tears as he spoke
of your mother’s health.
i guess a part of him just couldn’t return.
forgiveness is the lesson
he cursed you to learn.
as your guardian, I was instructed well
to make sense of God’s love in these fires of hell.
now i don’t expect you to understand,
just to live what little life
your broken heart can.
maybe your light is a seed,
and the darkness, the dirt.
in spite of the uneven odds
beauty lifts from the earth.
as the years move on
these questions take shape.
are you getting stronger
or is time shifting weight?
no one expects you to understand,
just to live what little life
your mended heart can.
you’ll always remember
the moment God took her away,
for the weight of the world
was placed on your shoulders that day.
maybe your light is a seed,
and the darkness, the dirt.
in spite of the uneven odds
beauty lifts from the earth.
you’re much too young now
so i’ll write these words down:
darkness exists
to make light truly count.
MASQUERADE
there’s a full moon
hanging over us tonight.
the city, now restless
underneath disguise.
fake blood and fangs,
feathers and paper wings,
in this masquerade
we could be anything -
but all i want to be
is whatever you want me to be this halloween.
all i want to be is whoever you want me to be this halloween.
i’ll be your knight in shining (fake) armor.
or maybe you prefer
something a bit more sinister?
a mask and a cape,
with a vampire’s taste for blood;
i could be the ghost
that haunts only to win your love…
‘cause all i want to be is whoever you want me to be
this halloween.
all i want to be is whoever you need me to be
this halloween.
‘cause everything you are is better than make-believe.
this halloween
all i want to be is everything you want me to be
this halloween.
there’s a full moon
hanging over us tonight.
the city lies helpless
underneath its light,
this halloween.
WE’RE STILL HERE
all of a sudden,
you changed my mind.
pulled back the curtains
a little at a time.
you were on a frequency,
the perfect opposite of me
though i never needed any proof
to trust the heart that beats inside of you.
only one thing really matters:
we’re still here. we’re still here.
against all odds, we’re still here. still here.
there is color deep within your eyes,
a history that only you and i could write.
there is pigment in your memory,
the origins of our family tree.
though i never needed any proof
to know the heart that beats inside of you.
only one thing really matters:
we’re still here. we’re still here.
through the static,
through the ashes
we were brave.
through the perils
of endless narrow escapes,
we’re still here. we’re still here.
Turning Page
Written by: Ryan O’Neal
i’ve waited a hundred years.
but i’d wait a million more for you.
nothing prepared me for
what the privilege of being yours would do.
if i had only felt the warmth within your touch,
if i had only seen how you smile when you blush,
or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough,
i would have known what i was living for all along.
what i’ve been living for.
your love is my turning page,
where only the sweetest words remain.
every kiss is a cursive line,
every touch is a redefining phrase.
i surrender who i’ve been for who you are,
for nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart.
if i had only felt how it feels to be yours,
well, i would have known what I’ve been living for all along.
what i’ve been living for.
though we’re tethered to the story we must tell,
when i saw you, well, i knew we’d tell it well.
with a whisper, we will tame the vicious seas.
like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees.
October EP:
HOMESICK
you spend your whole life
just to remember the sound
when the world was brighter,
before we learned to dim it down.
call it survival,
call it the freedom of wills;
where breath is borrowed
our compass needle stands still.
our resignation only comes on beaten paths.
when the world was flat,
we dreamt of its edges…
if love’s elastic, then were we born to test its reach?
is it buried treasure
or just a single puzzle piece?
it’s poison ivy
beneath our brave and trusting feet…
but all revelations come to us in recovery.
cry wolf, cry mercy,
cry the name of the one you were raised to believe;
cry hard, cry yourself to sleep, cry a storm of tears,
if it helps you breathe.
if it helps you,
if it helps you breathe.
NEXT TO ME
our futures were written with crayons in coloring books.
it was misspelled and outside the lines,
and we loved how it looked.
like the crooked hem of your favorite childhood dress
and the holes in my jeans from years of carelessness.
i know that since we’ve grown, we ache for those memories.
but honestly, nothing’s even compared
‘til you were next to me. nexttome.
when words came to you
for the first time, you knew you were hooked,
like the pride that you felt at the last page of your first book.
the bravery i forced when i sang to an audience of three:
it took a million wrong notes
just to find a single melody in key.
i know that since we’ve grown, we plead for clarity.
but honestly, nothing’s ever made sense
’til you were next to me. nexttome.
if time is money,
then i’ll spend it all for you.
i will buy you flowers
with the minutes we outgrew.
i’ll turn hours into gardens,
planted just for us to tame.
i’ll be reckless with my days,
building castles in your name…
since we’ve grown, we long for concrete things.
but honestly, nothing’s felt more sure
than when you are next to me. nexttome.
let’s cut down the red tape
and gather up the pieces of our youth.
‘cause there’s nothing in this world we can’t fix
with some scissors and glue.
WATERMARK
you were carved out of the sea,
watermarked by our ancestry.
in a tug of war
between the tide and me,
what felt like loss was a victory,
as you were swept ashore
like bottles holding prayers.
where you were carved out of the earth,
safe and sound in your second birth,
gravity has tied your anchor to the shore,
as a lighthouse tames the endless ocean roar.
against the calming light,
our silhouettes are changing shape.
the stories you’ve been told
have made you brave.
such inheritance
was formed within the sand,
like the shells you gather
in the safety of your hands.
dive in, with your eyes closed,
for the life you were born to claim.
the water will be paralyzed
by the courage you contain.
the flutter of your earnest heart,
it will fill the silent seas
and all will be restored in your melody.
November EP:
BRIGHT & EARLY
bright and early,
through the curtains,
the sun comes pouring in.
filling glasses up with diamonds,
stirring where i’ve been
but it’s all trigger and effect.
dominoes at their best.
in the end i’m told
it taught me everything i know.
that the wreckage left behind,
will somehow make me grow.
but why couldn’t i have been safe from the start?
soundly asleep.
the warmth of blankets
makes me nervous.
i’d rather catch a cold.
like sparks in matches,
blink, you’ll miss it,
the future’s up in smoke.
though dust has settled,
I still smell the ashes
buried in my clothes.
it’s all trigger and effect, i know…
dominoes at their best.
in the end i’m told
it taught me everything i know.
but when the fire took our home,
i lost part of my soul.
from the ground up
i’ll keep building
houses into homes.
’cause if trust is ribbon,
then patience ties it
in a perfect bow.
EMPHASIS
death is promised to the bee
who’s sting protects the colony.
was its life worth nothing more
than honey for the queen?
life is a branch and it is a dove,
handcrafted by confusing love.
sign language is our reply,
when church bells make no sound.
in hollow towers and empty hives,
we craved sweetness with a fear of heights.
was it all just a grain of sand
in an hourglass?
the smartest thing i’ve ever learned
is that i don’t have all the answers,
just a little light to call my own.
though it pales in comparison
to the overarching shadows,
a speck of light can reignite the sun
and swallow darkness whole.
death is a cold, blindfolded kiss.
it is the finger pressed upon our lips.
it puts an unwanted emphasis
on how we should have lived.
life is a gorgeous, broken gift.
six billion+ pieces waiting to be fixed.
love letters that were never signed,
sent to where we live.
but the sweetest thing i’ve ever heard
is that i don’t have to have the answers,
just a little light to call my own.
though it pales in comparison
to the overarching shadows,
a speck of light can reignite the sun
and swallow darkness whole.
101010
hold your breath and count to 28.
change is slow but i feel it taking shape.
folding over us like waves
on origami ocean tides, we sway
like blueprints constantly being rearranged.
over microscopes we plan and strain.
the finest print in the whitest ink,
before it dries, there’s no time to think.
it feels like everything we’ve known is sink or swim
but grey is not a compromise -
it is the bridge between two sides.
i would even argue that it is the color
that most represents God’s eyes.
hold your breath and count to 29.
connect the dots and cherish every line.
paper cuts and trails aside,
make a wish and hold it tight,
this time, we’ll try our very hardest not to try.
‘cause grey is not a compromise -
it is the bridge between two sides.
the shores on which our stubborn land
and restless seas collide.
grey is not just middle ground,
it is a truce that waits to be signed.
i would even argue that, from where we stand,
it most represents the color of God’s eyes.
so, let’s fold our atlas into paper planes.
change is slow, but i feel it taking shape.
December EP:
ACCIDENTAL LIGHT
on your mark, get set…
a million miles past the finish line
my heels lift
at this imaginary starting line.
the trigger slips;
my heart was racing well before it’s time.
time’s running out, it’s always running out on me,
as the road up ahead disappears.
though it’s all been said,
and this empty dictionary is all that’s left,
i’ll try to change the world in a single word.
my hands are shaking, ready or not.
invisible ink well it’s all i’ve got.
so i’ll concentrate and pick from these barren trees.
time’s running out, it’s always running out on me,
and every road i discover disappears under my feet -
some call it reckless, some call it breathing.
have i said too much or not enough?
is it overkill or is it giving up,
to measure out the distance of an echo’s reach?
if it’s all broken mirrors and a chance roll of the dice,
then i’ll risk everything for a glimpse of accidental light.
time’s running out, it’s always running out on me,
and every road i’ve discovered disappears under my feet -
some call it reckless, i call it breathing.
FROM THE GROUND UP
one by one the knots we’ve tied will come undone.
like picking locks, we’ll sow our seeds beneath the sun.
our accomplice is the rain,
with patience, that of saints
it grows and grows,
our home sweet home.
it took me 27 years to wrap my head around this-
to brush the ashes off of everything i love.
where courage was contagious, confidence was key.
right as rain, soft as snow,
it grows and grows and grows,
our home sweet home.
we’ll try to document this light,
with cameras to our eyes,
in an effort to remember
what being mended feels like.
we’re home sweet home.
SNOW
the branches have traded their leaves for white sleeves
all warm-blooded creatures make ghosts as they breathe
scarves are wrapped tightly like gifts under trees
christmas lights tangle in knots annually
our families huddle closely
betting warmth against the cold
but our bruises seem to surface
like mud beneath the snow
so we sing carols softly, as sweet as we know
a prayer that our burdens will lift as we go
like young love still waiting under mistletoe
we’ll welcome december with tireless hope
let our bells keep on ringing
making angels in the snow
may the melody disarm us
when the cracks begin to show
like the petals in our pockets
may we remember who we are
unconditionally cared for
by those who share our broken hearts
the table is set and our glasses are full
though pieces go missing, may we still feel whole
we’ll build new traditions in place of the old
‘cause life without revision will silence our souls
so let the bells keep on ringing
making angels in the snow
may the melody surround us
when the cracks begin to show
like the petals in our pockets
may we remember who we are
unconditionally cared for
by those who share our broken hearts
as gentle as feathers, the snow piles high
our world gets rewritten and retraced every time
like fresh plates and clean slates, our future is white
new year’s resolutions will reset tonight
January EP:
JANUARY WHITE
so let’s press undo.
rearrange the old and call it new-
january white.
every calendar is playing the same old trick:
a year will disappear, replaced with counterfeit
but we’ll never really mind.
‘cause if nothing else, we’re given a little time
to change the game, a chance to redefine
everything we are,
in our january white.
this year is a sealed envelope,
a culmination of hopes,
the lottery result that we’ve been crossing fingers for.
we could paint our walls a lighter shade of blue,
or we could pack our bags and change the entire view
to january white.
if nothing else, we’re given a little time
to change the heart in which we change our minds;
our hourglasses turn.
this year is a sealed envelope;
with apprehensive hope
we brace for anything.
i swear, i understand that nothing changes that,
the past will be the past,
but the future is brighter than any flashback.
well, we could let our guards down a little easier this time,
we could trust that when there’s joy, there’s nothing dark behind.
in spite of history,
hope is january white.
this year, we’re starting over again
letter openers in hand,
a chance to take a chance.
i swear, i understand that the past will be the past,
and nothing changes that,
but the future is brighter than any flashback.
THE ASH IS IN OUR CLOTHES
(instrumental)
WIRES
carefully cut the wire and wait.
life is a series of narrow escapes.
a chain reaction,
a loose thread that we must pull.
the birth of religion
in the challenge of the unknown.
but all desperation
leads to a fork in the road-
we live for understanding
or for control.
so very carefully we’ll cut the wire and wait.
with one eye closed,
we’ll draw back,
catch our breath and let go…
time is the string in between
the arrow and the bow.
if there’s one thing we’ve learned
as our pulse returns-
timing is everything.
if life is a series of narrow escapes,
we’re shifting our weight
in this tightrope ballet.
we’re down to the wire.
February EP:
DEAR TRUE LOVE
dear true love,
i’m a writer without any words,
i’m a story that nobody heard
when i’m without you.
i am a voice,
i am a voice without any sound.
i’m a treasure map that nobody found
when i’m without you.
dear true love,
i’m a lantern without any light,
i’m a boxer much too afraid to fight
when i’m without you.
so with this ring
may you always know one thing:
what little that i have to give,
i will give it all to you.
you’re my one true love.
i am a memory,
i’m a memory bent out of shape,
a childhood already bruised with age
when i’m without you.
dear true love,
i’m an artist without any paint,
i’m the deal that everyone breaks
when i’m without you.
so with this ring,
may you always know one thing:
what little that i have to give,
i will give it all to you.
you’re my one true love.
i am a whisper,
i’m a secret that nobody keeps.
i’m a dreamer of someone else’s dreams
when i’m without you.
dear true love,
i’m a farewell that came all too soon.
i’m a hand-me-down that dreams of being new
when i’m without you.
LAND OR SEA
one day we’ll wake up and realize-
to make any difference one must simply try.
try to use words less than our hands,
for change is a direct result of our plans.
we’ve got no stakes in the ground.
we’ve got no anchors tied down.
land or sea, there are no guarantees here, we know,
there is nothing but our fears of being free.
it feels deeper than any ocean floor,
our lungs no longer believe in any shore.
so let’s dry out our clothes and catch our breath.
our process implies our progress.
we’ve got no stakes in the ground.
we’ve got no anchors tied down.
land or sea, there are no guarantees here, God knows,
there is nothing but our fears of being free.
finally, there’s a mountain beneath us.
but up here our lungs fight against us.
land or sea, there are no guarantees here.
God knows there is nothing but our fears.
LEARNING CURVE
i had a good dream-
we built a home.
it was far from perfect,
but we made it our own.
we lived a good life,
we gave and we borrowed.
it was far from perfect,
but we made it our own.
when everything around us changed, we felt okay.
no learning curve could ever bend us too far out of shape.
when we took one step forward, and five steps behind,
we were still more than able to walk a straight line.
we had a white picket fence in the front yard,
where our grass was plenty green.
every window in our house
welcomed in the sun’s company.
we had hardwood floors and unlocked doors,
our glass was plenty full.
though our bills were only barely met,
our hearts were plenty whole.
when everything around us changed, we felt okay.
no learning curve could ever bend us too far out of shape.
when darkness was the price of light, we weren’t afraid.
for the time we’ve spent was more than worth
any interest that we’ve paid.
we lived a good life, a good life,
when my eyes were closed.
though the question marks were all the same
and the burdens never left,
we gambled everything we loved,
as though there was some kind of safety net.
when everything around us changed, we felt okay.
no learning curve could ever bend us too far out of shape.
when darkness was the price of light, we weren’t afraid.
for the time we’ve spent was more than worth
any interest that we’ve paid.
and when my good dream
came to an end,
i woke up more than ready to bend.
March EP:
PACIFIC
(Instrumental)
OUTLINES
hidden in plain sight,
the world is an outline
of shapes i used to know.
like pulling ribbon,
all of a sudden
the curtains draw back slow.
though i’ve been distracted,
i am caught up in static
no more.
garden of eden,
lower your branches
for another year.
i’m dust, unsettled
until they reappear.
though my hands are prone
to trial and error,
i’m crossing my fingers
for something to hold.
i can’t help but hope for brighter,
here in the shadows of letting go.
God, may these good intentions
be the outline of so much more.
when i breathe, from now on,
i’ll mean it more than ever i did before.
BIRTHRIGHT
she was raised by wolves,
in the warmth of their fur.
surrounded by fangs,
she knew that she was secure.
language barriers
made no difference at all.
when you’re truly cared for,
there’s no purpose for walls.
his fences stood tall
as the shoulders of old.
but he dreamt that one day
maybe he’d break the mold.
but time shyly stands still
when you watch it unfold.
from these ivory towers
freedom is only a ghost.
privilege and pain
when compared look the same.
comprehension begins
when we pull back the lens.
right or wrong,
tension makes us stronger
by making us weak
when we needed to be.
they made her their queen
on the day she was born.
they placed on her a crown
she wasn’t ready for.
but all impossible odds
foreshadow our means,
like paving a road
to kingdoms we’ve never seen.
he woke up one day,
written out of the will.
they swore he’d be okay,
with lesser shoes to fill.
“what doesn’t kill us
makes us stronger,” they say.
our only birthright in this life
is the breath that we take.
privilege and pain
when compared look the same.
comprehension begins
when we pull back the lens.
right or wrong,
tension makes us stronger
by making us weak
when we needed to be.
our fables tell our truths.
April EP:
TETHERED
we were married by the ocean.
we were tethered by the sea.
we tied string around our fingers
to remember our ideals.
i’ll be brave when you are frightened.
you’ll be strong when i am weak in the knees.
i’ll be calm when you have had enough of these rushing waves.
you’ll be the oxygen i need.
we’ll take turns to untangle the knots,
though our hands may be tied,
it’s all a part of the plot.
cat’s cradle etiquette, we oblige,
as we learn to enlace for the rest of our lives.
you’ll be balance when i waver.
i’ll be warmth when you are shivering cold.
you’ll be patience when i’ve had enough of this waiting game.
i’ll be the anchor cast below.
we’ll take turns to untangle the knots,
though our hands may be tied,
it’s all a part of the plot.
cat’s cradle etiquette, we oblige,
as we learn to enlace for the rest of our lives.
INTERMISSION
i’m so tired but i can’t sleep.
my mind is full but i can’t speak.
among the dust of the hard-to-reach, i’m stuck
right here, somewhere between side a and side b.
i could call it compromise
or just an intermission.
some kind of consolation prize
for the race i never finished.
i want to turn these tired gears.
i want to feel the follow-through,
some kind of equilibrium…
something to set my watch to.
i’m here, somewhere between
victory and a white flag.
caught in this purgatory dream, i’m stuck.
but i want to set the record straight,
i want to retrace my every step.
if i could just rewind all the tapes
then maybe i’d find my loose thread.
call it a compromise
or just an intermission.
some kind of consolation prize,
so close, but never finished.
i want to turn these tired gears.
i want to feel the follow-through,
some kind of equilibrium…
something to set my watch to.
IN THE MEANTIME
maybe there’s no answer here,
at least one we’re ready to hear.
no string of words will satisfy.
no simple equation to edify us
here, in the meantime,
may questioning nurture life.
fear is illogical math-
an impractical skill to have.
still, we talk of our future ’til we have no voice;
we’ll try to outsmart it with noise.
but here, in the meantime,
may the unknown harvest life.
we’re conditioned to mourn our empty glass
long before it ever poured out our past.
though our patience is always in short supply,
we’ll leave our farsighted worries behind.
here, in the meantime,
in the gospel of nearsight,
may we learn to live a nourished life.
May EP:
PACIFIC BLUES
if i could rearrange my words,
i’d say what i mean.
if i could learn to count the cards,
i’d risk everything.
imagine how brave i’d be
if i knew i’d be safe.
if i could only know the end,
i’d be a prodigy of faith.
if i had a treasure map, oh the answers i’d find.
i’d dust off the artifacts ’til i made ‘em all shine.
everything i know is borrowed, broken or blind,
and what i’ve seen of beautiful feels merely implied.
is it the treatment of symptoms or a touch of divine?
i guess the truth is that the truth is of complex design.
how i ache to know.
God knows that i know we’re little boats in the great big sea.
setting sail after sail in the hopes of finding a breeze.
every compass i have followed i’ve trusted and denied.
so it goes with an ever-changing definition of right.
is it the treatment of symptoms or a touch of divine?
i guess the truth is that the truth is of complex design.
if ignorance is bliss, then i guess i’m in heaven.
but this hesitant kiss sends me back to the grasp of the sea.
setting sail after sail in the hopes of finding a breeze.
SEGUE
(Instrumental)
SILHOUETTES
you wrote your name in invisible ink,
for you were so afraid of what they might think.
but the scars they left, they were loud and clear,
weren’t they? weren’t they?
when it’s too much to bare, memories erase.
a disappearing act, deserving of our thanks.
when it surfaces, just hold your breath
and swim. just swim.
you begged and begged for some kind of change:
maybe they’d wake up tomorrow and regret the pain
that they’ve passed down to you like DNA,
but no luck, no luck.
it seems only by the hand of God or death,
will they truly change their silhouettes.
for a miracle or a consequence,
you wait and wait…
… maybe distance is the only cure?
far away from hurt is where healing occurs.
but all you really want to do is make them proud,
don’t you? don’t you?
it must be so hard, in the mess you’re always cleaning up,
to believe in the ghost of unbroken love.
but i promise you,
the truth is that you’re loved. so loved.
June EP:
ATLANTIC,
(Instrumental)
THE SEA OF ATLAS
through wires and waves, our voices carry.
such careful words that we can barely speak out loud.
we found an ocean when we needed land.
we drowned in words when we needed a hand.
so we plead for night, and the sun keeps on spilling light.
there’s a fine line, a fine line in between
our progress and our instability.
we can’t help ourselves but hunt for more.
a design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore-
the catalyst we’ve waited for.
we live and die under the thumb of fear,
as though the finish line will merely disappear
if we take one less step, even to catch our breath.
we once felt safe, like no cure was needed.
our vocabularies had no room for “defeated,”
but we grew up quick and became connoisseurs of it.
there’s a fine line, a fine line in between
our progress and our instability.
we can’t help ourselves but hunt for more.
a design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore-
the catalyst we’ve waited for.
HOURGLASS
we’re taking turns
at shattering apart.
at least we’re taking turns.
how did we get so good
at dismantling these hearts?
how did we ever get so good?
we dress our best
to receive their sympathy.
at our worst, we dress our best?
“time heals all”
according to these greeting cards.
oh how we’d rather time resets.
if we could turn the hourglass, we would.
if we could move a grain of sand, we would.
if we could find our way back, we would.
our minds keep spinning webs
of question marks and of regrets.
will our minds keep spinning webs?
i once heard honest words:
“though nothing may ever be the same,
the heart keeps widening for change.”
July EP:
WILDERNESS
dear wilderness, be at your best.
her armor is thin as the fabric of her dress.
i know the rules: the weaker trees bend.
but make her immune
when your temper storms in.
when she gains her balance,
be as still as you can be.
when she’s climbing branches,
be the feathers underneath.
when she regains her balance,
be as steady as she needs.
when she trusts you blindly,
be her worthy lock and key.
though it goes against
every grain of your sand,
like turning wolves
into lambs,
be your best for her,
your best for her.
when she holds her balance,
be as gentle as she needs.
when she shines her brightest,
let no dark cloud intervene.
HIT OR MISS
hurry, hurry up and wait
is how the waiting game is played.
a thousand moving parts keep score
inside the watch we can’t ignore.
so let’s hurry, let’s hurry up and wait.
much too tired to try,
much too stubborn to quit,
on an island in between
the coasts of hit or miss.
are we settlers or are we natives of this land?
only time will tell
on which pedestal we were meant to stand.
so let’s hurry, let’s hurry up and wait.
so let’s hurry, let’s hurry, hurry up and wait.
every cloud above’s full of splattered paint,
every seed below lies patiently in wait.
but a watched kettle never boils,
a watched tree never grows.
may we have our tea in the forest,
may we reap all that we sow.
so let’s hurry, so let’s hurry, hurry up, hurry up and wait.
so let’s hurry, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up and wait.
APERTURE
happiness is somewhere i have been before-
a blurry photograph that i have since ignored.
i’ll carefully adjust the aperture once more,
until i set the record straight.
i’ll brush aside the dim, make room for the bright.
i’ll be an editor, no, a curator of light.
i’ll let my better angels always set me right,
until i even out the score.
until i even out the score.
God, it has been quite a year-
i’ve lived a little bit and i’ve died a little more.
i know that i’ve asked it before,
but please let the scale tip here in my favor.
what was once the sweetest melody i’ve heard
is now a memory reduced to little words.
i’ll tune the orchestra and play the overture,
until i pinpoint every note.
give me the heart of an archeologist,
that i may dig until i prove that i exist.
a subterranean cathedral in my midst,
where echos come to rest.
where echos come to rest.
is this where echos come to rest?
God, it has been quite a year-
i’ve lived a little bit and i’ve died a little more.
i know that i’ve asked it before,
but please let the scale tip here in my favor.
until i set the record straight,
until i set the record straight,
until i can set the record straight.
August EP:
PAGE 28
have you read the script?
could you picture it?
… is it worth the risk?
everything i love
is on the line,
on these neon signs.
but i need to know- when you looked away,
was it something that i said? was it something that i said?
well okay, okay, i need you more than i did before.
now that the concrete is nearly set.
here in the second act i’m living in repair.
strange how the heart adapts when its pieces disappear.
and there, on page 28, i’m so tired of drying glue,
i begin my grand attempt at building something new.
though i tend to write
the epiphany more immediately,
i guess i’m trusting that there’s such a thing
as elegance in dissonance.
God, i’m skeptical of pulling scenes.
was it something that i said? was it something that i did?
please don’t get me wrong- i still need your help
as history repeats itself
here in the aftermath, i’m pulling at the seams.
strange how the heart adapts in the absence of routine.
and there, on page 29, i find “new” and make it mine.
but i can’t help casting shadows on all i leave behind.
maybe i could afford to change a bit…
even let go of the reigns?
every torn out page was worth the risk
now that the stakes have been raised.
so here in the final draft, i’ve given all i have.
strange how the heart expands in the absence of a plan.
there’s nothing left on the page, but i’m okay with that,
for i found my resolution
was designed for stronger hands.
NO ARGUMENT
like starting war,
like spilling ink.
like the empty street
you swore you saw
before you blinked.
there’s no second thought,
there’s no turning back.
there’s no calling off
this avalanche.
every day, now spent
underneath white flags.
every intention, eclipsed
by every stain of the past.
there’s no argument-
fairness is a ghost.
there’s no argument-
it is a rare bird at the most.
but every sighting is proof.
and every heart-beat proves it too:
that only love can change the shape
of such permanent truths.
of such permanent truths.
such permanent truth.
HOUSEHOLDS
(Instrumental)
September EP:
NOBLE AIM
chances are we are the same;
against the odds, against the grain
we lean, like gardens toward light,
but we wait, like evening for night,
don’t we?
chances are we are alike;
against what better judgement writes
we ache like children for love,
for a purpose worthy of
such a noble aim,
such a noble aim,
such a noble aim as love.
chances are we bruise the same;
a family tree desperate for rain.
a thirst only deserts know best.
a hurt so at home in our chests.
call it stubbornness or bravery,
to let our branches continue to reach,
with such a noble aim,
with such a noble aim,
with such a noble aim as love.
every broken branch and loosened leaf
that we’ve grown to ignore,
is now a part of something greater than before.
every nest that rests upon our limbs,
seeking shelter from the storms,
is a purpose worth being broken for.
chances are we are the same;
against the odds, against the grain
we lean, like gardens toward light.
we reach with all of our might
for such a noble aim as love.
GOES ON AND ON
every day you wake,
evermore aware
than you ever were before.
the smallest sound
is ringing in your ears,
like a grand piano
slowly falling down a million stairs.
but the sounds it makes
are the growing pains of repair
and it goes on and on.
it goes on and on.
’til the day you wake up
miles away from here,
where all of a sudden
dissonance disappears…
and like a wrecking ball in reverse,
every wrong will be made right.
what was adamant, even permanent,
will have a change of heart and mind.
in your disbelief, you’ll clear your eyes
as if you’re seeing light
for the very first time.
it goes on and on.
it goes on and on.
RESOLVE.
generations wait
like the river sways,
for a father’s blood,
for a mother’s love.
though not the promised land,
nor any perfect plan,
along our neutral path
there was a single lowered branch.
what was flawless canvas-white,
what was kindness in our eyes
is now a blemished masterpiece,
an astigmatism life.
but let’s cut right to the chase,
to when the best of us was on display,
before we tipped the scale from confidence to doubt.
i would hold you now, if only i knew how.
concentration breaks
under frivolous weight.
if the right words exist,
may they find our lips.
let’s stay the course
and let the tension make us new.
i don’t know if it’s virtue,
i don’t know if it’s just dumb luck.
would it matter if it was?
what if we welcomed change in
or opened up just enough
to let it begin?
“the doors will open wide for you.”
it was said just like it was the truth,
if we walk right through…
PORCELAIN
the door broke when you slammed it shut,
and the cracks kept reaching long after you left.
through the floorboards, branching towards the hall,
like vines that never rest…
climbing like fire through the walls.
a single spark that claims the whole forest -
i know, i know… it’s all for the best.
but honestly, i would rather be
safe from a distance than here…
when i fell to my knees
to sew the damage shut,
i couldn’t believe…
a bright, staggering light
came flooding into me
from out of the seams.
so i reached deeper in
and pulled my whole world wide open,
and for each broken mile, a billion
miracles happen at once
in everything… in everything.
but i’m safe from a distance, right here.
everything i love
was made of porcelain,
ready to break.
but the bright, staggering light,
it anxiously waits inside.
like nesting dolls, the secret hides.
and like every birth,
it was a necessary pain…
i know, i know…
it’s all worth the wait, worth the weight.
CHANDELIERS
when all of the pieces align,
when the balance is clearly defined,
we’ll sigh and we’ll settle down
for the first time.
but held in museum display,
time pulls us further away.
and when we rebuild it,
all of the details fade.
into the tide,
where the sun fills our eyes,
only silhouettes
will remain in the place
where our rare bird of grace appeared.
in our pale imperfect light,
our palms will stabilize,
and your brightness
will close our heavy eyes,
and we’ll dream with you.
we’ll dream with you.
when we awake, we are left
with the eggshells inside of the nest
and the promise that one day soon,
it will come back to us…
when we reach into the night,
where the water will rise,
your wings will unbend.
in your brilliant display
all our worries will wash away.
on pale, imperfect eyes,
chandeliers rely…
and the brightness will
weave lace out of light
when we dream of you.
in our pale, imperfect light,
our palms will stabilize,
and the brightness
will close our heavy eyes,
when we dream of you.
we’ll dream with you.
NAIVE
religion is a breeding ground
where the devil’s work is deeply found,
with teeth as sharp as cathedral spires,
slowly sinking in.
God knows that i’ve been naive
but i think it makes him proud of me.
now it’s so hard to separate
my disappointments from his name.
because shadows stretch behind the truth,
where stained glass offers broken clues
and fear ties knots and pulls them tight.
it leaves us paralyzed.
but in the end such tired words will rest.
the truth will reroute the narrow things they’ve said.
the marionette strings will lower and untie
and out of the ashes, love will be realized.
God knows that we’ve been naive
and a bit
nearsighted to say the least.
it’s broken glass at children’s feet
that gets swept aside unexpectedly.
SIDE BY SIDE
religion is a breeding ground
where the devil’s work is deeply found,
with teeth as sharp as cathedral spires,
slowly sinking in.
God knows that i’ve been naive
but i think it makes him proud of me.
now it’s so hard to separate
my disappointments from his name.
because shadows stretch behind the truth,
where stained glass offers broken clues
and fear ties knots and pulls them tight.
it leaves us paralyzed.
but in the end such tired words will rest.
the truth will reroute the narrow things they’ve said.
the marionette strings will lower and untie
and out of the ashes, love will be realized.
God knows that we’ve been naive
and a bit
nearsighted to say the least.
it’s broken glass at children’s feet
that gets swept aside unexpectedly.
SLOW & STEADY
you carved our initials
into these family trees.
but when the branches are bare and broken,
love is so hard to reach.
we’ve learned to brace for the worst
and to read the last pages first,
surrender feels safe.
maybe the soul is the soil that holds the fallen seed,
or the light pouring down in between the rain clouds,
daring life to reach;
or maybe it’s the rings in the trunk of the tree,
a birthmark time will leave
to measure the past.
but we can’t dream when we’re wide awake
or fall in love with a heart too strong to break.
faith is expensive to taste,
and time is borrowed loose change
that’s already been spent.
maybe the soul is the tone of voice
that unearthed the words that we needed…
maybe the soul is a suitcase that holds the backup plan -
a collection of keys and the patience we need
to start again.
maybe it’s the thresholds that swallow us whole
as we learn to let go,
in spite of the dirt on our clothes.
CLOCKWORK
there is glass between our touch,
phantom limbs of former love…
and the truth is that I am so terrified
that the callous is deeper
than the surface of our skin.
and it takes us twice as long,
it takes us twice as long to heal.
we’ll lift up the ground to see
the system of roots beneath.
gears turn, endlessly,
to bring the world back to life
like clockwork, when it dies.
the cadence of beating hearts,
the click of its moving parts
grows louder and louder
from this restless earth…
future gardens wait patiently below
and somehow we smell them blossom
through the snow.
still unsatisfied,
we chase what we’re denied.
as generations wait,
we can’t resist the taste of possibility.
gears turn, endlessly,
to bring us back to life again.
like clockwork, we begin.
UNMADE
when we were young
our words were innocent -
whiter than snow,
awkward and slow.
now when we speak,
we risk an avalanche.
but that’s not enough now
to reroute our plans.
i believe that we’ve got it wrong, got it wrong.
we’ll realize when it’s said and done, said and done,
that in our words we’ve lost so much more
than we’ve ever won.
the aftermath
is cracked wood where fences stood
and the broken bones of our childhood.
in our trembling fear,
we put words inside God’s mouth.
we cover our tracks
and get so proud of ourselves,
we get so proud of ourselves,
we get so proud of ourselves
when we get away.
i believe that we’ve got it wrong, got it wrong.
we’ll realize when it’s said and done, said and done,
that in our words we’ve lost so much more
than we’ve ever won.
it’s in our nature to complicate,
but in the end it’s the casualties
that carry all the weight.
TIMELAPSE
only the eyes of owls can be seen here;
they are the stars, they radiate.
and every constellation
is a fraction of God’s DNA
that we were made to notice and navigate.
as the moon commands the tide
to balance the weight of change,
we must learn to follow all the same.
when the northern lights were born,
the color poured into our eyes,
like tipping a glass with the ocean inside.
into the darkness,
we will send our symphonies -
a shorthand of existence,
a slowly turning key,
the voyager will leave us
with this modest memory of home.
when the sunlight wakes the earth
from its deep sleep,
all creatures bloom.
and through lifted lashes, all is new.
as a newborn recognizes
its mother’s voice from inside the womb,
may we remember the warmth of our youth.
the overture was written,
like the calm before a storm.
with hummingbird precision,
we must follow every chord…
time-lapse reveals a slight of hand,
it unties the rules of time and plan.
stillness is only a state of mind,
a blind spot that brightness has left behind.
wet paint is a privilege that we will find.
as the wrist of an artist
pulls the foreground into the frame,
we must learn to focus, all the same.
all these restless conversations
have tied a string to every living thing,
and our illustrations will draw them near.
BIRDCAGE RELIGION
so slowly i’m losing
who i’ve sworn to be.
a promise in pencil
that years have made so hard to read.
i’ve spent my life building walls
brick by brick and bruise by bruise…
a birdcage religion that whispered me to sleep.
but time is spinning silk
that coils ruthlessly;
with the devil’s patience,
it binds my hands so quietly
that soon it becomes a part of me.
so soften these edges and straighten out my tie.
and help me remember
the hope that i have compromised.
please be a broken record for me.
GREEN SCREENS
if only worry could make it change,
suddenly our world would take new shape;
on miles and miles of green screens
love hangs on invisible strings.
so roll up your sleeves,
this could take some time.
everything waits on assembly lines – but not here.
in the emergence of plan,
we’ll be surrounded by hands.
the storyboard outlines our escape
and second guesses will be erased;
on the cutting room floor
everything falls into place.
if only our futures could be tamed,
suddenly our past would have no say.
and in the emergence of film, pouring overhead,
our bodies relearn how to feel.
and somehow the screen embodies every ideal
as the orchestra so sweetly reveals,
and the background artist carries us there…
the conflict compliments repair.
we’re all on the edge of our seats,
we’re all on the edge of our seats
until the end.
ALL THIS TO SAY
all this to say,
our future is a blank page
that we chose to pour ourselves into
when God pressed play.
and we’ll drag our pens
into these parallel lines
to record and to articulate
everything we find.
as decades unlace,
we’ll pause and carefully trace;
our shadows are puddles of ink
that our memory saves.
layer by layer, the framework was formed
on an epic of paper:
we breathe to explore.
fast-forward motion
will gracefully show
the flickering story
that all of our sketches unfold.
before we were born
God gently told us the truth,
but understanding is something that stops
as our bodies bruise.
so we’ll concentrate,
constantly rewinding tapes.
was the ghost just a glare on the lens
that our minds create?
our minds create…
when God pressed play.
layer by layer, the framework was formed
on an epic of paper:
we breathe to explore.
and fast-forward motion
will gracefully show
the flickering story
that all of our sketches unfold.
TENSION & THRILL
The headlines talk
Of sadness and new risk.
Life is deadly,
My finger’s to your lips.
We’ll send the world in reverse.
Love is tension and thrill
That begs to be ours.
We are diamonds waiting to be found,
Catching light in the corners of our eyes.
We are diamonds waiting to be found.
We are the hunted,
We are the shining northern lights.
We are the nervous,
We feel our hands becoming vines.
We’ll dream in color tonight.
Love is tension and thrill
That begs to be ours.
There are cities inside of everyone:
Life within life,
The trembling in our voice.
When I look into your eyes
I see the tip of an iceberg.
When I look into your eyes
I see that love is an iceberg
That throws us into the sea.
We’re walking on the ocean floor,
Feeding sharks out of our hands.
We are diamonds waiting to be found,
Catching light in the corners of our eyes.
We are diamonds waiting to be found.
CAREFUL HANDS
Put your coat on, this city trembles.
Keep your chin up, as you untangle God
From cold blood and bruises.
We are X-rays of something broken.
Cursive bloodlines write every forecast:
An orchestration Of dissonance and innocent surrender.
When our color dies,
We will bury the ashes of time,
And we will earn new eyes.
Wrists get tired rewriting futures.
Our bodies beg us to be creatures of habit.
We are creatures of habit.
Only with careful hands
We’ll turn their fangs into feathers and cures.
Only with careful hands
We’ll divide the prisoner
From the pioneer.
Clever beauty,
Umbrellas folding.
In architecture, our lines will measure
A map to find us.
Blue ink will guide us home.
Cranes are creeping, lifting metal,
We will find new ways to settle,
Tipping scales from the killer to its prey.
I can feel the weight around us,
Climbing every rib inside us,
A sanctuary in a lion’s mouth.
NEEDLE & THREAD
When the world welcomes us in,
We’re closer to Heaven than we’ll ever know.
They say this place has changed,
But strip away all of the technology
And you will see
That we all are hunters,
Hunting for something that will make us okay.
Here we lay alone in hospital beds,
Tracing life in our heads;
But all that is left
Is that this was our entrance and now it’s our exit,
As we find our way home.
All the blood and all the sweat
That we invested to be loved
Follows us into our end,
Where we begin to understand
That we are made of love,
And all the beauty stemming from it.
We are made of love,
And every fracture caused by the lack of it.
“You were a million years of work,”
Said God and His angels, with needle and thread.
They kissed your head and said,
“You’re a good kid and you make us proud.
So just give your best and the rest will come,
And we’ll see you soon.”
All the blood and all the sweat
That we invested to be loved
Follows us into our end,
Where we begin to understand
That maybe Hollywood was right:
When the credits have rolled and the tears have dried,
The answers that we have been dying to find
Are all pieced together and, somehow,
Made perfectly mine.
We are made of love,
And all the beauty stemming from it.
We are made of love,
And every fracture caused by the lack of love.
ENVELOPES
On tree branches
There are birds instead of leaves.
All at once, they lift through trees
To reveal the unseen.
A blindfold of wings
Held us from perfect sight,
While saving unready eyes.
All will be lost, all will be well.
All will be loved when living is hell.
We’ll cry dead leaves to grow.
In broken English,
Arguments igniting fires,
We’ll sing in off-key choirs
Of an ageless rebirth.
After feathers disappear,
Our bodies will heal and repair.
Sent down in envelopes,
A white sea of dangerous hope.
Arms overflow with the weightless flood of words,
Perfect ears let truth be heard,
And we will learn to let go.
We will learn to let go.
We’ll pull each letter one by one,
Every ribbon comes undone.
Our little eyes and little souls
Will now be strong enough to hold
The divorce of need.
Explanations breathe for us.
On paper waves we sway.
Our bodies get lifted away, outside of space
We’ll send down the envelopes,
The forest resets in hope.
HOLD STILL
Why is it impossible now
To trace every echo
Back to its birth?
Why is it impossible now
To kiss every fever away?
There is truth that’s hiding
Behind every wall that surrounds us.
It takes a lifetime
To pull the bricks away.
Why is it impossible now to know?
(Is this the way to understand?)
With the weakest of ears
We’ll try only to hear
The sound of our voice,
Louder than fear of waking up
Alone.
Let conversations carry
The unraveling of skin.
The ink will pour an answer
In children’s handwriting.
If all words are cameras,
Hold still.
Shutters slide to unveil
Fingerprints of angels
And a language made of film.
With surgical precision,
We’ll cut every piece into order.
And beneath soft faces,
We’ll climb halfway to God.
Why is it impossible now to know?
(Is this the way to understand?)
Why is it impossible now
To trace every echo
Back to it’s birth?
HEAVEN BREAKS
It always starts like this,
A harmless and simple thing to fix.
Contagious and spreading quick…
Like cracks in ice,
Wholly claiming our lives
While we sleep.
We’ll pray for Heaven’s floor to break,
Pour the brightest white on blackest space,
Come bleeding gloriously through
The clouds and the blue.
Forcing one place from two,
Killing formulaic views,
Only love proves to be the truth.
When heaven meets the earth,
We will have no use for numbers
To measure who are and what we’re worth.
When Heaven meets the earth,
We will have no need for mirrors
To tell us who to be
And where we fit into this awkward point of view.
When angels meet the earth, may our bodies be light.
When angels meet the earth, may our heavy hearts untie.
When angels meet the earth, may our bodies be light.
May our bodies be light for you.
LEVELS OF LIGHT
We are volcanoes, making new land,
Transcending borders with seeds in our hands.
Natural killers perfectly planned,
But all is entirely out of our hands.
It’s out of our mouths and into the ground.
Wake up, wake up
I think the worst is through…
We are surrounded by color and life
And we don’t even know it.
We are volcanoes, making new land,
Transcending borders with seeds in our hands.
Natural killers perfectly planned,
But all is entirely out of our hands.
Death is the only thing that makes us alive,
Forcing focus on light that we hold inside.
We are volcanoes, levels of light.
We’re bleeding an ocean of permanent life.
The blush of our anger could bury the sun,
But the pulse of untamable progress has begun.
Death is the only thing that makes us alive,
That brings us to life.
Wake up, wake up.
I think the worst is through…
The light that we hold must be buried -
Buried to bloom.
QUICKSAND
There are wires in between
Human heart and machine.
I will wait for mountains
To tell me you’re okay…
On paper my future will lay.
I’ll fold every failure into a crane.
Trust is quicksand,
Claiming everything I have,
All to give me life, all to give me life.
Slow down, hide your eyes!
The sun is setting fire
Through glass, branches deep.
I cough only to breathe.
Trust is quicksand,
Claiming everything I have,
All to give me life, all to give me life.
One thousand more to go,
I’ll send every prayer from below.
I was swallowed by a whale.
Slow down, you’re all words
And love is made of yarn.
Scissors,
A slip of the hand, a slip of the tongue;
God knows I meant no harm, I meant no harm.
In between every promise and lie there is a kiss.
In between tempers and suitcases there is a kiss.
In between medicine and the sick there is a kiss.
In between arrows, aim, and release, there is a kiss.
(Anchors in reverse
Lead us back to birth.)
UMBRELLAS
I’ll make you mine if you would have me.
With a silver ring that will hug you tight,
Our life begins.
Our life begins with this.
I’ll prove my love if you would let me.
Over and over and over again.
We’ll bring a child into this world
And we’ll say the one thing
Everyone should hear:
You were meant for amazing things.
Give me your hand, it’s time.
It’s time to show new eyes their home.
When fences divide our land,
I would catch bullets with my bare hands.
Because you were meant for amazing things.
SING TO ME
Sing to me a prayer of hope and strength.
I will sing to you
As if my chest is glass.
As we build, please give us solid ground.
When the rain becomes a flood,
I believe that we will find
Tree branches to climb.
Far, far, far from here.
Sing to me a prayer of hope and strength.
I will sing to you
As if my chest is glass.
When the weather settles down,
We will search through this mess,
Where I believe that we will find,
Through things left behind,
The place where we began.
Sing to me, please sing to me
Always through these times,
And we’ll begin again.
DREAMLIFE
As our hearts lay sleeping,
As our bodies rest,
The Heavens open up for us.
Put down your weapon, child,
And close your eyes,
Because you and your enemies
Are innocent tonight.
I never wanted you,
I never wanted you to go.
There’s a voice inside your soul
That resonates through your skin and bone,
Up through the blades of grass,
Underneath the feet of God’s only son.
The war that you’re fighting
Has already been won.
I just want to survive with you by my side.
With you by my side, I just want to survive.
Crooked mouth, quiet down.
Let your fists come undone.
Miscarried love will be reborn.
When we sleep,
The devil’s arms are tied.
The war that we’re fighting
Has already been won…
I never wanted this,
I never wanted this to go away.
I never wanted this,
I never asked for it,
I never meant to let it go.
I just want to survive with you by my side.
With you by my side, I just want to survive.
KEEP NO SCORE
God, let her listen
With ears to the ground.
Let voiceless approval
Turn into sound.
In death there are hidden, invisible keys
That only when swallowed
Reveal where they lead.
Life is a mess
We wake up to,
A single thread of a deeper truth.
Is this a graveyard
To bury her heart?
Or is it a garden,
Where new life will start.
‘Cause God, when life here ends,
We’ll beg you for more.
In temper we’ll hate you,
But please keep no score.
Life, it is a mess we wake up to,
A single thread of a deeper truth.
SAY
Say what you really want to say
And the truest of forms will show
Finally you’ll find your soul
They impose the endless fight
To always be perfect.
It seems they have been chosen
To be above the rest.
But the contradiction stands
Between these perfect lives
And the words that they’ve misread…
There was no reading.
Say all the things that you really want to say
The truest of forms will show,
Finally you’ll find your soul.
Say all the things that you really want to say
The truest of forms will show
And finally you’ll find your soul.
The landscapes of being
Are endlessly competing, back and forth
For an answer to existence
That we can never find,
In all of the places that we’ve searched out,
In all of the pulses that we’ve taken…
There was no reading.
Say all the things that you really want to say
Then you’ll find, the truest of forms will show
And finally you’ll find your soul.
Say all the things that you really want to say
Then you’ll find, the truest of forms will show
And finally we’ll find our souls.
Give us the answers
And the ability to hear
The landscapes of being
Are endlessly competing, back and forth
For an answer to existence
That we can understand.
Perhaps we’re looking far too closely.
We can’t see
All the evidence in its entirety…The air in our lungs,
The complexity of our love.
Say all the things that you really want to say
Then you’ll find, the truest of forms will show
And finally you’ll find your soul.
Say all the things that you really want to say.
Say what you really want to say
And the truest of forms will show,
Finally you’ll find your soul.
CURRENTS
In this sea of change, understanding is our shore.
I disappear… with no control.
The current is strong, my arms are weak
But you are the branch within my reach.
Though I cannot catch my breath…
Pull me back to shore
I’ll never reach my place, I’ll never reach my place.
Pull me back to shore
I’ll never reach my place, I’ll never reach my place.
The current is strong, my arms are weak
But you are the branch within my reach.
In this sea of change, understanding was swept away.
Pull me back to shore
I’ll never reach my place, I’ll never reach my place.
Pull me back to shore
I’ll never reach my place, I’ll never reach my place.
With everything I have
I reach out my hands,
There’s nothing left to give.
I seem to have no direction, I have no control,
No way to know where currents pull.
All the weight of my intentions
Are making it so hard
To breathe the air at all.
I see you, coastlines reaching out
When there’s nothing left to reach…
Pull me back to shore
I’ll never reach my place, I’ll never reach my place.
Pull me back to shore
I’ll never reach my place, I’ll never reach my place.
ALL THAT IS BEAUTIFUL
All that is beautiful
Will not be beautiful to me
Unless it’s perfect.
Outside of these walls is an awful place
As far as I can tell
We are not the enemy, we are not the enemy inside.
We were victims of a constant loss,
We were not the enemy.
I am afraid
That opinions are contagious.
I am afraid…
That my plans will all lose their place.
We are not the enemy.
We could hold our breath forever
Or maybe for a while…
The best will surely come.
Until then we’ll feel nothing,
Until then we’ll feel nothing at all.
All that is beautiful
Will not be beautiful to me
Unless it’s perfect.
All that is beautiful
Will not be beautiful to me.
In all harmony, in all of our discord,
Can we really know all that is pure.
We are not the enemy, we are not the enemy,
We are not the enemy.
GHOSTS
All that is beautiful
Will not be beautiful to me
Unless it’s perfect.
Outside of these walls is an awful place
As far as I can tell
We are not the enemy, we are not the enemy inside.
We were victims of a constant loss,
We were not the enemy.
I am afraid
That opinions are contagious.
I am afraid…
That my plans will all lose their place.
We are not the enemy.
We could hold our breath forever
Or maybe for a while…
The best will surely come.
Until then we’ll feel nothing,
Until then we’ll feel nothing at all.
All that is beautiful
Will not be beautiful to me
Unless it’s perfect.
All that is beautiful
Will not be beautiful to me.
In all harmony, in all of our discord,
Can we really know all that is pure.
We are not the enemy, we are not the enemy,
We are not the enemy.
A SKELETON OF SOMETHING MORE
In the darkest of nights,
The city of lights
Will pour unto us.
Creeping inside
Through our sleepy eyes,
Contagiously bright
Like sunlight and rain
Flooding through the veins
Of wilted vines.
But love travels like a rumor here,
Losing form with every ear,
A skeleton of something more.
But waking seems an awful dream.
We’ll be waiting for the night,
Waiting for the night
To come and rescue us,
Feet off the ground.
Beaides, we’re living in this house of cards
That pulls and pushes with the air.
Fearing a feather to the earth
Could destroy it and us,
Inside unaware!
All we want is something more
To dream about and to adore.
All we need is a little place
To close our eyes, to end this chase.
The living are moving,
Gracefully
And painfully rushing ahead,
While unraveling the most essential thread
Of the fabric that covers us.
We’ll be waiting for the night,
Waiting for the night
To always come and rescue us,
Feet off the ground,
Our hearts become magnetized.
The warmth of the sun
Is melting the snowflakes
Before they hit the ground.
HURRY
Hurry, hurry
Come quickly
And leave all logic aside.
Don’t say a word.
Just listen carefully to me.
The world is ours
If we could only let it be.
Every move we make
Will trigger another.
And every small mistake
Will be a messenger…
“The world is ours
If we could only let it be.
The world is ours
If we would only let it be.”
Our lives are weaving like a thread,
Within each other, faithfully,
Sharing in our joys and miseries
And all that the world can give.
Always. Always.
In the depths of our souls,
Flickers of hope
Will show, so clear…
Like a pearl in the sea,
A pearl in the sea.
(the smiles on faces, born in familiar places,
we’ll build ourselves islands upon the deepest oceans.)
For the last time,
This could be the last time
To pull it from the water,
To wear around our necks.
The world is ours
If we could only let it be.
The world is ours
If we would only let it be.
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry.
EVERYONE
What have you seen?
What have you felt?
Your lips are closed, the curtain’s shut
And all that we can see is on your sleeve.
All that we can see is on your sleeve.
I know from time to time
That hope seems a foreign land.
A distance we cannot reach,
A language we cannot speak.
Your life is hidden in your skin.
Though not entirely so…
Some things can’t be kept.
And through all the things we’ll find out,
We will hold on tighter
To the surface life.
I know from time to time That hope seems but a foreign land.
A distance we cannot reach,
A language we cannot speak.
In your words, the movement of your eyes,
The expressions on your face,
In the rush of your walking.
And through all the things we’ll find out,
We will hold on tighter
To this surface life.
With our closed fists, we will feel like
We’ve succeeded again.
What have you seen?
What have you felt?
Your lips are closed, the curtain’s shut
All that we can see is on your sleeve…
And all that you can see is on my sleeve.
I know from time
That hope seems but a foreign land.
A distance we cannot reach,
A language we cannot speak.
BRIGHTLY
So close,
Yet barely breathing,
My responses are weak.
Though my eyes are shut tightly,
May I see you brightly.
Handshakes and fake smiles
Always make me nervous…
Close the door,
Please, close the door.
We rise and fall
From you,
We rise and fall
Far from you.
Climb, climb, climb…
We fall.
May we learn from
The signals of our past,
The sharpest words we cast
And begin again.
I can hear their voices
Through the walls of this place…
This cold, cold place
We rise and fall from you,
We rise and fall far from you.
So close, Yet barely breathing,
My responses are weak.
Trace these fingerprints, closely now
And they will form what you’re looking for.
We’ll make new prints once more.
SLOWLY, NOW
Just when we think
There is a chance…
There is never quite enough time left
To prove our beliefs,
To prove we are strong.
We just need some sleep.
We just need some time to clear our crowded minds.
But the curse of opinions and their views
Are promising defeat,
Replacing love with doubt and helplessness.
We just need some sleep.
We just need some time (to catch our breath)
The fears that we feel in our troubled hearts…
Is told to be what will make us last.
We’ll prove that we are strong,
Though our lines are bleeding through.
We are becoming whole, slowly now.
We just need some sleep
To dream away these fears.
We just need some time
To clear our crowded minds.
NIGHT MUST END
I feel the light upon my skin,
Like finger-tips
Reminding me that night must end.
Be brave
Like bridges underwater,
Keeping strong beyond their time.
I feel the light upon my skin,
Reminding me that night must end.
There’s something about sadness
that leaves us wanting more,
A sickness that breathes…
From holding on to letting go,
The change is like dying.
Be brave
Like bridges underwater,
Keeping strong beyond their time.
Feel the light upon your skin,
Reminding you that night must end.
Teach me to create
A beautiful past
That makes you proud,
That makes you proud.
Teach me what I need to know
To be strong enough to let go…
Teach me what I need to know
To be strong enough to let go.
TREES (HALLWAY OF LEAVES)
It’s just beyond those trees…
The place I’ve been dreaming of.
Will you follow me?
Trust me, I know where I’m going.
It’s somewhere here within the leaves…
There must be some mistake…
Trust me, I know where I’m going
We’ll cut a path out for us
Through the green seas,
We’ll make hallways of leaves
I know it seems it was just some crazy dream
And I know my eyes were closed
But this dream feels more real to me
Than life itself.
My ear is pressed upon this wall,
For behind it is that place.
The door is locked…
I’ll do whatever it takes
(you have to) Trust me, I know where I’m going.
Will you follow me?
Will you follow me, still?
In the moments that I feel
We’re closer than ever before
The world drops out from under our feet.
But I believe the darkest of fights
Prove we’re almost there.
There is always something there
to take our hearts like thieves
There is always something there
to take our hearts (But nothing matters.)
There is always something there to take
When we arrive
We will hear
Voices sing,
Nothing matters.
Nothing matters anymore.
Nothing matters anymore, anymore, anymore.
It’s beginning to get dark.
But don’t worry,
I know where we are,
I know where we are.
Will you follow me, still?