Writer's Minor Holiday. . Thumb tacks spread out. Across your hometown state. Hollow tree at half mast. Wait until wintertime. Leaves a paper trail a licorice plant that's overgrown.
The plaza in the village. where mission bells used to ring. is now crumbled to a pile of stench and ruin. even the swallows have spring. all the blossoms are burried.
You let go the wheel and turned off the lights. fell out from the world and looking. for something to ignite. I saw you breathing in the questions. that were clouding up your soul.
Crying for three days. now your eyes are red and tired. you can't sleep for three days. now you're waiting for tenderness to come. you're waiting for tenderness to come.
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You were looking for silver, looking for gold. You never did feel the wind turning cold. You always said you didn't need that much anymore. . You were carrying the weight of the world.
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Light shines through darker days. Eyes close and lose their way. Slip away the night. While the whole town's asleep. . Caught between the space. Where you wanted to be.
Wire fences still coiled with flowers of the night. Songs of the birds like hands call the earth to witness. Sever from fear before taking flight.. . Fences that fail and fall to the ground.
There are code breakers with lines well tapped. Traces sweeping out across the static night. You are draped in white like the blossoms of the tree. Looking down a glass elevator.
Walking south along the river. Never had he found that twist of pleasure. Remembering times when they were younger. Setting the town on fire. . And watching as his fellow friends.
Have you read any good telephone books lately?. If you ain't, let me recommend one. I've already read that Tulsa telephone book through thirteen times.
On the longest day. The vanishing mind. Knows not when the day ends. Who could care for you. Would could understand. In the room sealed shut. You're not what you were.
Beneath the neon hub of downtown. The local hotel ghosts blow back around. Descend on those drugstore cowboy nights. Cling to the bar, then disappear from sight.
4 in the morning the sidewalk's asleep. Dogs on the porch,. Spiders on the leaf. Shipwrecked by night sailing through days. Nobody noticed the slipping away.
Beneath the neon hub of downtown. The local hotel ghosts blow back around. Descend on those drugstore cowboy nights. Cling to the bar, then disappear from sight.
Leave the heart of the city. For the hert of the world. Leave the heart of this city. Love the way her trust unfurls. . Follow her hand to the dark end of the street.
Someone's messing with the machines. They've been left out in the rain. Well it's strange to come back free of any rust. Dares you to explain. Could you speak a little more clearly on the line.
There's no one in this world for me. There's never gonna be. There's no one in this world needs me. There's never gonna be. Yet sometimes in my dreams I hear.
Washed my face in the rivers of empire,. made my bed from a cardboard crate,. down in the City of Quartz.. No news, no new regrets.. Tossed a Susan B. over my shoulder,.