Means & Ends

There is a heaven we haven’t explored
lying in wait for the taking.
Hidden in phrases, hidden in plain speech,
hidden in rules made for breaking.

There are lines to cross and lines to keep reciting.
Some days the sticks are woven in the spokes.
There are things to keep and things to keep from fighting.
Days to pause and days to go for broke.

Does it sting a little, peeking over to tomorrow?
Are you measuring the means to the end?

Safe

When the storms gather around,
like enemies on all sides.
In the shadow of a doubt,
when you’re gone from my sight.

Lord, can you hear my cry?
Am I wasting my time?
Your still, small voice replies,
“Child, you are still mine.”

And I am, I am, I am safe in your hands.
I am, I am, I am safe in your plan.

You have seen the worst in me,
all the other loves that I chase.
Like a prisoner set free
running back to fasten his chains.

Like a moth to a flame
I am burned time after time,
but you love me just the same,
you say, “Child, you are still mine.”

And I am, I am, I am safe in your hands.
I am, I am, I am safe in your plan.

I come running back to you time after time
to the shadow of your wings,
and you say, “Child, you are mine.”

To Level Out

Our narratives aside, the truth is hard to hide.
It always seeks the light, to level out.
The story that I’ve got, the characters and plot,
the mortar and the blocks I’ve leveled out.

It’s complicated in retrospect to see what it’s about.
It’s hard to hate it, the means and ends, to level out.

If I could tweak the gears, an errant engineer,
the troughs would disappear and level out.
But things are meant to pass, in memory and ash,
simplified and crass, leveled out.

It’s annotated, its facts are checked. See what it’s about?
It’s hard to hate it, the means and ends, to level out.

You Should Be Living

In your echo chamber you examine the walls
with the only tools that you think you possess.
But your heartbeat’s timing, it rises and falls.
The imaginary structure becomes such a mess.

If only you could reach out and touch what is real.
If only for a moment, to feel.

In your waking coma you are listening in
to familiar strangers at the side of your bed.
They are vultures watching for a flickering lid.
They are judge and gavel for the things in your head

If only you could show them the final reveal.
If only for a moment, to heal.

The mud over your eyes was meant to fall like scales.
It wasn’t meant to hide your life and world in braille.

It Could Be Better

Somewhere it is warmer. Somewhere it is summer.
Anywhere but here. Far away but here.
Hunkered down and waiting, under an overcoat
We will be fine. Bide the time.

Keep your head up. We will be alright.
Through the shortest days
and the longest nights.

Somewhere there’s a war zone. Somewhere there is tear gas.
Somewhere close to here, year after year.
Bunkered in a shelter, under a ceasefire
they’re still firing. They’re still fighting.

Keep your head down. We will be alright.
Through the shortest days
and the longest nights.

It could be better. It could be worse.
It could be anything at all.

Little Drummer Boy Chords

I hated all the chords for Drummer Boy that I found online so here we go:

   G                Am           Em
Come they told me, pa rum pum pum pum 
A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum pum
   D          G               Am           F
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum
 D         G                F           Am
To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum, 
             Em               F
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, 
 G                  Am           Em - F
So to honor Him, pa rum pum pum pum,
         G
When we come.

Kamera

I’ve got a camera in my head
that takes this picture over and over and over again;
its singular focus hard to bend,
the starkest of contrasts to everything I have ever been.

And I wish it would shutter, I wish it would run down.
Unplug. This was never any fun.

I’ve got a narrator in my head,
revising the matter over and over and over again.
It’s easier than trying to forget.
The noblest of motives but the worst of means and ends.

And I wish he would stutter, wish he’d lose his train of thought.
Slip up. This was never any fun.

Tell me, did you mind it, finding spools to splice at will?
Did you memorise it? Are the twists all turning still?

And I wish you would shut up. You’re ruined. You are done.
Shut up. You were never any fun.

Flight

Who will follow me into the sky?
Will they train their telescopes
to catch my silver sail?

Who will leave this dying world behind?
Will they build a ship to set
their better angels on my tail?

The meek can inherit the earth
we’ll take the stars.
The meek can inherit the earth
when heaven’s ours.

Who will give their daughters to my sons?
Will their generation stretch
as far as they can fly?

They can have the cradle we’re done
growing into giants upon
giants standing high.

The meek can inherit the earth
we’ll take the stars.
The meek can inherit the earth
when heaven’s ours.

Thorn

One of the first songs I consciously remember writing and wanting to save. Circa maybe seven years ago. Also perhaps the most ridiculously self-indulgent I’ve ever written.

Who pushed splinter in my side?
I reach and feel the water and the blood.
Is this love, to let me go?

Who pushed these thorns into my head?
These barbs are oh so bloody and so red.
Was it love, to let me go?

Oh I know just the words to say.
The words to tear us all apart.
Oh I know just know to break
a girl’s heart.

You touch your finger to my side.
Horrified to feel the wound so wet.
Is this love, to let me go?

You tremble, hammer in your hands.
You know exactly how this story ends:
Was this love, to let me go?

Oh I know just the words to say.
The words to tear despair apart.
But I know just how to break
a girl’s heart.

Pray that I won’t break yours.
I’m scared to speak and then regret.
Pray that I won’t break yours.
I’ll bite my tongue. There’s still hope left.
Pray that I won’t break yours.
How far can we get? How far can we get?

Oh you knew just the words to say.
The words to tear my soul apart.
Oh you knew just to break
my heart.

But They Fall Down

Super-old song. Just getting the lyrics online.

Does it surprise you,
what’s going on in the places
where you haven’t looked in so long?
Do you wonder if you know how
to pick up the pieces again.

You pick them up. You pick them up.
You pick them up but they fall down again.