Happy conflicted. Conflicted happy. Chocolate cake and cherry pie. Everything is ripples on water, spreading concentric outwards; warming my bones against the cold in a way that I'm too intoxicated by to want explanations for. Music is new again. The house is clean.
...and I don't want it to stop.
And yet there is shadow. Light moves overhead as the ground beneath you spins. In the morning it follows where you go, and as the day leaves you have the chance to see yourself on the ground, stretched and leaning away. It's a relfection. It's a projection. Gravity and light, undeniable truths.
What is it with me and playgrounds?
Connect and discover, transmit and receive. Wait for the words to appear, or know them without saying -- the differences are enormous, but it's a place I feel, almost like lyrics and rhythm.
Strange how the scale forms,
in tiny patterns
on my antenna
and the Five O'clock Show ...Hello Hello
The Golden Age is 10 songs about planes, pirates, submarines, and rain - but there is a mood there, a current underneath. I can't really explain it, because it's just something that happens when the notes hit my ear. It takes me somewhere, like an emotional passkey. It's not attached to a name or a face.
It's just a mood. A kind of blue.
Perhaps that's what's made these days the way they are. Because there is a feeling there. Something close to covet that appears in the reflection of the eyes. It spreads over me like a blanket and it flows to everything and everyone I know.
I mean, honestly - the bathroom hasn't been this clean in years.
...How can that be a bad thing?
Be in my broadcast
when this is over
give me your shoulder, I need a place
to wait for morning.
...and I don't want it to stop.
And yet there is shadow. Light moves overhead as the ground beneath you spins. In the morning it follows where you go, and as the day leaves you have the chance to see yourself on the ground, stretched and leaning away. It's a relfection. It's a projection. Gravity and light, undeniable truths.
What is it with me and playgrounds?
Connect and discover, transmit and receive. Wait for the words to appear, or know them without saying -- the differences are enormous, but it's a place I feel, almost like lyrics and rhythm.
Strange how the scale forms,
in tiny patterns
on my antenna
and the Five O'clock Show ...Hello Hello
The Golden Age is 10 songs about planes, pirates, submarines, and rain - but there is a mood there, a current underneath. I can't really explain it, because it's just something that happens when the notes hit my ear. It takes me somewhere, like an emotional passkey. It's not attached to a name or a face.
It's just a mood. A kind of blue.
Perhaps that's what's made these days the way they are. Because there is a feeling there. Something close to covet that appears in the reflection of the eyes. It spreads over me like a blanket and it flows to everything and everyone I know.
I mean, honestly - the bathroom hasn't been this clean in years.
...How can that be a bad thing?
Be in my broadcast
when this is over
give me your shoulder, I need a place
to wait for morning.