daddy's gone and my brother's out huntin in the mountains...
it's the 22nd day of my birth. twenty two revolutions around the big bright thing.
i moved to seattle a week after i turned eighteen. moved back to mesa. moved to seattle when i was barely twenty. moved back to arizona. moved to seattle when i was twenty one.
...and i just turned twenty two. i was wondering what to do. and the closer they got, the more those feelings grew.
daddy's rifle in my hand felt reassurin.
he said red means run son and numbers add up to nothing.
by the time it hit the dock i saw it comin.
raised my rifle to my eye.
never stopped to wonder why.
then i saw black and my face splashed in the sky.
i want to be surrounded by friends and animals again. i had a nest, a cave, a loving fire by which to sit. and i left for greener pastures, for the greenest pasture, to find that it was cold and sterile and boarded up. i don't know who the fuck i am in a world gone completely mad. but at least i can ride my bike through it and i expect to gain some insight that way.
there is such an ominous, cosmic boredom been breathing down my neck, soakin' wet. even those times i was swapping spit with molly and bloomers, i felt sad in some way and scared that i wasn't ever going to feel urgency again.
there's a band, cake, and warm, meaningful faces to share this eve with. beltane is coming.
i moved to seattle a week after i turned eighteen. moved back to mesa. moved to seattle when i was barely twenty. moved back to arizona. moved to seattle when i was twenty one.
...and i just turned twenty two. i was wondering what to do. and the closer they got, the more those feelings grew.
daddy's rifle in my hand felt reassurin.
he said red means run son and numbers add up to nothing.
by the time it hit the dock i saw it comin.
raised my rifle to my eye.
never stopped to wonder why.
then i saw black and my face splashed in the sky.
i want to be surrounded by friends and animals again. i had a nest, a cave, a loving fire by which to sit. and i left for greener pastures, for the greenest pasture, to find that it was cold and sterile and boarded up. i don't know who the fuck i am in a world gone completely mad. but at least i can ride my bike through it and i expect to gain some insight that way.
there is such an ominous, cosmic boredom been breathing down my neck, soakin' wet. even those times i was swapping spit with molly and bloomers, i felt sad in some way and scared that i wasn't ever going to feel urgency again.
there's a band, cake, and warm, meaningful faces to share this eve with. beltane is coming.