1. |
Need To Be
02:38
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|
eons of people walking upright
but o’ i need to be myself
forever rage, and two too-thin legs
fucked up knees, and a need to relate
keeps me abreast of all the pain in the room
but i’m floundering, drowning, in groupthink
SO I BITE BACK
i pound and i pound
blustering, violent,
screaming at the ground (MOVE)
at times, unable to think, hear, or see,
but everything — everything is worth the feeling
increasing myself
reflecting multitudes
cannibal’s spirit
unable to push through
MAKING MYSELF
unable to learn that from anything else
if it exists, it’s in relation to me — even the pain in the room
i see the waiting
waiting for the chance to spin around and break the legs of that new-found man
anything for that fucking feeling
tear down cities of You
until the only thing left standing is My Self
myself
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2. |
Replacement Head
01:33
|
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|
you never felt the pull, you took it all on faith —
anger as insincere at what you make
and now you have the gall to tell us how to live,
despite the fact you took it all because you’ve got nothing to give
i don’t wanna be you, to learn to be me,
crushed by god for doing or saying the wrong thing
your tyrant days are over now, your rules don’t apply
“this time belongs to us!” or isn’t that right?
oh-so-cavalier, it doesn’t hurt you to lie,
but you’ll cover your ears when the new kids cry,
“OFF WITH THEIR HEADS”
off with their fuckin heads
affix your lens
replacement head
|
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3. |
The Push-Away
02:03
|
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|
i want to make myself into whatever you need
extend with open palm, my heart, and let it bleed
growing tired of the walls, of having hurt to show
i won’t impale myself on my flaming sword anymore.
sea of earth between, but never far from you
convince myself i’m worth the task of love to see this through
the pieces of you that i find in me will have to do
destroy me with a word, and carve me anew
sea of earth
born in the blue
on mountaintops
carve me anew
|
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4. |
Smallest Stone
03:10
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|
what were you supposed to think?
bent head, servile pose, over oven, or kitchen sink
locked behind your bedroom door with YOURSELF, with your FEAR, with your UNTAMED WAY
your heart still growing, beating, yearning, for reciprocation, every day
so you bury yourself in your april gardens, and up sprouts me --
lifted onto your old, green soul,
to give me love you’d never seen
you die your deaths in the shallow breaths,
in the culvert of that love and fear
and your overcrowded head somehow leaves room for everybody but yourself
never granted the gentle night
never a respite from the self-sight
never danced inside your own sunlight
never out from under the shadow of world-fright
but you, you grew
and i grew too, when you were two days into the sick,
pins and tumblers just wouldn’t click
and when you still can’t fight it now,
a decade-old fear comes back around
but i would carry you on my back for miles before you suffered alone again
“she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile i ever saw”
— charles bukowski
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