This is like coldplay for people that sit on their balls

bounty 

walking in the arroyo bank with the bounty in our hands:
a stack of used reporters and a stolen axe can
and 12 years later it would all blow up again
running from the ghosts we were too young to understand

and why does it all seem so near to me now?
anything can happen if you lay your armor down

you met me at the entrance with a story to tell
you said “the pussies walk through heaven, but all the real men walk through hell”
and now i say that all of that is behind us and i would rather not dwell
the past does not define us, but you can’t deny its spell

and why does it all seem so far from me now?
anything can happen it i lay my armor down

night pours over us and dusk rolls off our shoes
i’m finally old enough to say what’s overdue

and if i’m being honest 
i know that there is a lot that i’ve assumed
and then repeated and promised 
that love is only a thing we have to prove
and i have carried this often 
so many stories of who you need to be 
when all that i’ve ever wanted was someone to walk the arroyo banks with me

Bounty

footprints

i find my footsteps so inviting when they carry me from harm
i’ve been looking for someone inside me who can hold me in their arms
and grown awful used to sick of fighting when there’s nothing to forgive
the truth is so much less exciting: now i hide from what i’ve hid

the light warms the leaves
a coming storm is all i see
the dirt holds my feet
a quiet place is all i need

i used to climb along the mountains for the secrets they would bring
surrendering to my surroundings, would they tremble when i sing?
but i left it all upon the shelf where the dust can calcify
running towards some “better self” without seeing eye to eye

the light warms the leaves
a distant storm is all i see
the dirt holds my feet
a quiet place is all i need

a steady stream to hold my hand
the patience of an aging man
another branch grows on the tree
there’s a quiet boy inside a car 
who’d give his life for shooting stars
a beating heart is all he needs 

i find my footsteps so inviting as we walk along the stream
giving life to one beside me who is not too old to dream

the light warms the leaves
a fading storm is all i see
the dirt holds my feet
a beating heart is all i need

Footprints

young country

we live in a young country
that never earned its wings
the growing boy who finds a wounded bird
is capable of so many things

a stick can mend a bone or two or wipe the world away
it’s easy to believe when it’s hard to decay
they say the choice is yours to make if fruit grows on the tree
but what brought you to the crossroads
and who planted the seed?

it’s not the question or the answer
no, it’s somewhere in between
all my life i’ve been living
someone else’s dream

we live in a dark country
that only eats its youth 
line them up, dress them down 
and always hide the truth

a hand can stroke a cheek or two or something in between
my legs can carry me away or plant me in my feet
they say the choice is mine to make, i’m looking for the proof
is it buried in the basement, or drying on the roof?

no it’s not the question or the answer
no, it’s somewhere in between
all my life i’ve been living
someone else’s dream

i’m growing weary
and feeling strange
i see it clearly 
something has to change

something has to change

if we lived in a brave country
would i want to leave?
the growing boy who always heeds his heart
becomes the man who is free

Young Country

erosion

a thickening sediment 
grows in the medicine 
every morning

“why do you live like this?”
why do you give a shit?
same old story:
this only ever happens to me

dew on a laundry line
air of the summertime 
take me home

i wanna feel free again
wanna feel clean again
shape the stone
where the river bends to meet the sea

bone white, the moonlight
and all the ghosts who walk with me
inside the forest i will
offer up my offering:
too often i’ve been covering this pain

a quickening static
trickles out from the attic
and shapes my room

am i being overdramatic
or is this burgeoning panic
when i assume
that this only ever happens to me?

bone white, the moonlight
and all the ghosts who walk with me
inside the forest i will
offer up my offering:
too often i’ve been coveting this pain

Erosion

one days

one day i’ll feel bigger than this ocean in me
whose ugly unspokenness cannot be redeemed 
and all of this always plays on repeat
with all of my “one days…” that i’ve been deceived to accept

i could’ve sworn that this year’d be different in the light of the last
the days move so slowly and the weeks move so fast
and all of those mondays living through a mask
with all of my old ways begging me to answer:

“why don’t you ever learn?”

now and then i think of all that i’ve offered in the name of a dream
and how quickly it all turned in the face of disease
and all of it’s so strange, what we pawn to believe
that none of us can change a goddamn thing
so we sing:

“why don’t you ever learn?”

i’ve always been a good liar
never been soft on keeping score
now and then i grow tired
and yet it all sits so ignored

so why don’t we let it burn?

One Days

glory 

i swear i thought i told you that i’ve never smoked a pipe
it’s a sticky turkish blend though, do you have a light?
and of course i don’t mind sharing i’m the over-sharing type
i just hope one day that i can buck the hype

all glory to the autumn
and the distant sound of trains
when all this is forgotten
lord, just let me keep the pain… or else i’d never learn

i chased you around the campus playing trumpet on the lawn
we drank until the borderlines were gone
too old to feel ashamed of this, too young to know what’s wrong
another year the questions linger on

all glory to the autumn
and the fading sounds of trains
when all this is forgotten
lord, just let me keep her name

who else were we supposed to become?
and what else were we supposed to have done?
you can feel it there on the back of your tongue
it doesn’t wait for anyone

you know, i’d love to tell myself i’m older than i seem
the prairie air hangs like a fever dream
but i’d gladly trade my hubris and my insincerities 
to wrestle once again beneath the leaves

and for the glory of that autumn
after the endless august rain
when the dirt begins to soften
and we forget to bring our shame

Glory

measurements 

the first time i got stoned by myself
the dusk glowed an orange on a purple greenbelt
a new paradox had entered my mind

and i forgot who i was for the first time

i went for a walk in the glow
while a man sang a song about a real ufo
the sun tapered off, a thin amber line

and i gave myself up to a new light

and i couldn’t believe my eyes
the world i had rendered had lost its design
in my stupor i went down the road
safe from the fears i’d later know

the prairie stretched out like the sea
as great waves of twilight blurred the cattle and trees
and then tapered off
a trick of the light?

a feeling so small and so vast at the same time

do you ever think that all this is all for nothing?
do you wonder what it’s like to be a king?
do you think we ask too many fucking questions?
do you think i’m oversimplifying things?

i wanna believe in the silence
but i’ve not been listening

Measurements

shelter

june drips on the windowsill and maybe i should keep this closed
wet wood will rot the frame, but how was i supposed to know?
maybe it’s something that’s yearning to be exposed?
there in the kitchen light: the outline of your mother’s ghost

well i skip my step between the cracks and draw my life out in the lines
see i’m hungry for a steady pay that feeds me and my soul in kind
maybe it’s something that’s yearning to ease my mind?
but nobody tells you you’re never running out of time

somewhere beneath the paint
lies the story of the first to leave this place
but how the hell do i leave this behind?
lord, let me dig a hole that I can never find

---

sun shines on a roaring shore and holds the thunder in the air
blood rolls off my sweaty leg but no one really seems to care
maybe this feeling has always been hiding here?
nobody tells you never need to be repaired

Shelter

free 

i’ve had another rough week
towering above me
how did we get here again?
you told me “leave it in the front yard
no one needs a new car
why don’t you phone up a friend?”
but my life is not a gameshow
regis, let me go home
i don’t know if i trust the audience
and i don’t know if i wanna see the end

i just wanna feel free
have you ever known what that means at all?
i’ve never known what that means at all

i’ve been cheering for the wrong team
fighting for an old dream
teetering on the unknown
oh, let me blame it on the mentors 
when i opened the wrong doors
tell me, where would you go?
or, let’s savor something senseless
savor what you can’t miss
meet me somewhere in the dialtone
let’s go somewhere we’ve yet to be alone

somewhere we can feel free
have you ever known what that means at all?
i’ve never known what that means at all

do you hear the whispering
of the voices out on the moor?
or is it the whimpering
of the empty path from before?

nobody tells me what to do

Free

tangible 

let this be a lesson that you might understand
how the winter turns the water to something tangible in your hand
and yet all this thaws in the end

the summer breeds a fever, the fever brings amends
the mending makes an offer: forget who you have been
soon december brings me back again
and through it all, i wanna be

somewhere quiet somewhere close to you

let’s stay a little longer where the crock pot fills the air
and let this boil over like fingers through your hair
while something so tangible coats the land

‘cause the fall’s secret desire is to linger on despair
to dig a little deeper, to find something to share
to lift it out and give it to a friend
who wants to be 

somewhere quiet somewhere close to you

and every year the colors change
but the more you learn to lose the more you stand to gain

the shoreline’s lookin clearer, the docks have been repaired
and all i wanna know is, will you meet me there?
to linger in the dusk

…

Footprints

Maiden King

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