1. |
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Realizing we know
that we’ve got to live a life a million times
before we ever been born.
Shine a light on my soul,
your body taught me something that I never
could have thought of before.
If we ever grow old
promise me we’ll dance and make a little noise
before we are gone.
When our bodies go cold
let the fire burn ‘em and let the smoke rise to the sky.
These clouds of Texas are taking the shape of a bomb.
My radio reminds me that nothing has ever been wrong.
This creek bed is dry now but water will always return.
My favorite guitar string is loosening the knots in my words.
No matter what you believe
help me be a lover and I’ll help us make a lot of mistakes.
I’ll get down on one knee
and tie our shoes together cause sometimes we’re gonna fall on our face.
Maybe freedom ain’t free
or maybe it’s a little bit of something that our minds have to taste.
Maybe love isn’t easy
or maybe it’s just seeing that it’s flowing all over the place.
This love of Texas is cooking the notes to our songs
let’s throw us a barbecue, bring all our demons along
Too late for a memory, the past is always already gone
our music reminds me that nothing has ever been wrong.
Over the sound of a sparrow, a woman cries
like someone climbed the wailing wall.
She was playing with the Tarot,
she pulled a card that read that all these lives will end.
This life in Texas is teaching me to live a little out of control.
We talk about outlaws and park along the wrong side of the road.
Reincarnation is never drinking Lone Star alone.
This music reminds that nothing has ever been wrong.
|
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2. |
Walt Whitman
04:30
|
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|
Picking feathers from the side of the road
Put em in her hair
and bring em back to life
like the Navajo
Situation runnin overload
A butterfly in Phoenix
Is exasperating lovers
In Tokyo
Training dogs to obey your words
Keep em on a leash
Teach em to behave
Like a good dog should
Children runnin with their arms stretched wide
Holdin’ on to freedom
Even though it’s not the same
As appearing good
Misunderstood
Misunderstood
Misunderstood,
It’s amazing how a language
Is like grasping clouds
From on a plane
Fish chopping wood
An imageless depiction
Of feeling strange
[Limited glory,
A poet is an anti-hero
caught in a story.]
Jumpin in when your fully clothed
Trustin that the water
Isn’t gonna disappear
Before you drown your fear
Swimmin naked in your mama’s womb
You’ll spend the rest of life
Trying to recreate
The sound you hear
Met a madam in a lost and found
She was breathin under water
You thought you could save her
With a long harpoon
Took a message from a higher power
They were sorry that they missed you
They know you are busy
so they’ll try back soon
Hey Walt Whitman,
I was born a warrior
And I’ll go like you
With your twisted sex
And our longing text
And a joy that rings
The victory bells.
Tell Saint Francis
That our religion dances
With a body electric
A little eccentric
And a second hand,
Second rate,
Second chance
Acoustic guitar.
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3. |
Religion
03:33
|
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