Sunday, December 30, 2007

Loose Cannons

November 22, 2007

I wrote this in the car on the way to Thanksgiving dinner. Doesn't have much to do with that, but travel does that sometimes. "Fault Lines" (The Mountain Goats) was stuck in my head pretty fiercely, and that's where the melody mostly originates. Based (loosely) on a true story.


I thought, "Here's a love that fate should smile on."
That was the day when the whole thing went wrong
"You're not as smooth as you'd like", you said,
Turned out the light, and went up to bed.

We were two loose cannons in an open field,
Two reckless machines, with all terrain wheels.
We should've stood proud in the face
of all challenge and chaos.

But I was a wreck, and you were a mess
Neither one of us knew how to confess
That the tethers that held us together
would never obey us.

I thought, "Here's a love that fate should smile on."
But the love of sweet fools never lasted too long.
You didn't know me, I didn't know you,
And wanting your love still won't make it come true.

We can harden our hearts but not mount a defense
I try not to confuse it, with current events
And each knot that I tried to retie,
You quickly unraveled.

With armaments armed to break down every gate
Sometimes there's no time from too soon to too late,
And the wind blows wild on a highway
That's never been traveled.

Maria, Queen of Nowhere

December 2007

Rhythmic surrealism, mostly.


Maria, queen of shadows, queen of sight,
Could you tell me where I’m going, could you tell me how to fight
through a blaze of darkest morning in a haze of deepest white?
Maria, queen of shadows, queen of sight.

Maria, queen of nowhere, queen of night,
Every word I speak to you is begging for the light
In a field of broken pillars, in a tempest turning right.
Maria, queen of nowhere, queen of night.

Maria, queen of storms and queen of stairs.
All you ask is sacrifice and no one even dares.
Your forests are in fragments, and your hills are burning bare.
Maria, queen of storms, Maria queen of stairs.

Maria, queen of cruelty, queen of care.
You know I was your witness when no citizen could bear
To be seen upon your parapet, your broken crystal stair.
Maria, queen of casualty, Maria queen of air.

Maria, queen in gossamer and gold.
Into frightful symmetries your architecture folds
like a frame upon the mantle, like a flame against the cold.
Maria queen to have but not to hold.

I dreamt of you by morning and I dreamt of you by night,
Danced with you in scarlet and I spoke to you in white,
Singing still of darkness with your bonfires burning bright;
Maria, am I wrong or am I right?