a friend of mine committed suicide in the car that i drive
i know, 'cause i helped the motherfucker decide
he'd climb across sidewalks with eyeballs sparking
on double buck beer and poppy plant offspring
touring the moments before mornings, stars sing
unto the sound of a man tying off with windbreaker drawstring
remorse brings less ballast than forearm markings
so he stayed way up weighed down, full of dry dark things
crawl spaces on his brain, tossed aces in the rain
we played spades, discussing hate, patience and change
painted his claims with broad strokes and scrawled hope
on whores throats who bummed smokes without saying his name
'cause they'd never heard it, he was always just the guy
shoved inside the rusty mitsu with dusted eyes
crushed time into comfortable speedbumps to slide
down his face, base tasted like grace, like love, like pride
didn't trust the spies on the bus, so he would drive
til his fingers blistered, whispering the trunk is alive
i got blind drunk to hide that i could see the skin
splitting on his hands every other time he breathed in
teasing residue from foil and envelopes most evenings
pole vaulting off the planet, nose wide, thumbs bleeding
reluctant demons had their hands forced by my friend
used to keep a green notebook under his belt for times when
the spies' sunglasses started showing up in puddles
he'd muddle through bundles of what his mind shed
and underline red, now, i kinda wish that i'd said
at night, syringes look way too fucking much like pens
we'd drive spread out on listerine and responses
from strangers who said we weighed on their conscience
cracked his knuckles just a little too constant
when i said remember, you got your hands full of your options
clocking 70 miles a day, filling the tank by halves
used the extra cash for quarter colas, cheap crank and grass
when he drank, the dash turned into his wife
drove with his fingers inside her, searching for life
we were a spike in the pulse of collective experience
always two shots from crashing, seven from getting serious
bent and periodically i noticed the spies in the bushes
i'd turn up the radio and look for dimes in the cushions
but he couldn't ignore the war, or even find a cure
i knew what he needed the length of rubber hose pipe for
but my own chords had been struck, i saw, and i poured
while my friend died in my car behind the bike store
the call came, all framed in more smugness than shock
month passed before i picked my car up from the cops
now i drive some days, most nights, thumb rubbing the locks
with his green notebook and deck of cards riding shot
i got an old car, dry throat, and blood on my hands
windows down, middle finger inside a miller lite can
trying to set the world on fire tonight while i stand
and put the cigarette lighter in the air for my man...
__________________
...Take a step: one step, one dive...
...Fate is death. A leap of faith over sunset's sunrise...
...Hate is everpresent, some let love die...
...even if you laced loosely, some get tongue tied...
elo§overeign
˜W™
10-03-2004, 11:16 AM
Linear Mode
