Bikram

Jesus & the Pope

Go on toward Sleeping

these are the words I read to record:

I think I already told you, but I’m looking for my friend
I didn’t think I’d lose her, but maybe this always happens
and although this is a bestial situation, I can’t tell if it’s a sin
from frying pan to fire, to pot, to kettle, to the god to the unwell, to the roadmap for the soul

your mouth was made of moth wings my eyes below the sink
skin below your arm hairs and your flesh colored knees
wind across the screen pane, the window in the leaves
a hernia of forgiveness, a conversation I could have had with a girl at a party

but so this lady plans to forget, all she ever knew about breaking a leg
I bought a full body cast, to wear it around a whole week if I’m able
I’m expecting myself to die within the next century if I’m able
this is your turn now, nuns or no nuns, and here’s this turntable

a non-translucent object, a politician in a stucco mine
how close I am to tryin
making amends, fixing things. I almost moved back to town

did you ever make it out to machu picchu
the dignity, the breath, the time, the other things there. like steps, and the space for a bunch of miles
this is your turn now, and this is your turnstile

I haven’t had a drink in a while if right then is a while
nuns or no nuns, nuns or no nuns, nuns or no nuns
the future’s full of shit, it was now just a half second ago
but no need for limitations and no needin for the trustworthiness of man

you read this all in a text at 2am, drunken, from me
at liberty to coast, we could be, and that is worrisome to me
keep this on the record, nuns or no nuns, capping verses is the only sign of love
sign a prenup like they say in that outkast song

moss likes to grow on moss, this forms a layer of peat
this occurs in lakes and ponds, and manytypes of wetlands
so fens become bogs, and so everything stops changing then
I’ve been wanting to tell you these things 

This forms a layer of Peat

Tropics

They have 64 IPAs?

Last week, I fell, in love w a woman from milwaukee over the internet
This is a categorically new week, I aint been through it yet
I told Corrina that if she writes a song then I can sing the words best
Aint that a regional idea to have, aint I a regional bird yet

She didn’t really write me a letter though she did ask for my address
She acted out an argument and then she acted like a gentleman
Corrina said that when she writes the script I can be her actor
Aint it just like milwaukee to form a suggestion like that

Sometimes I find myself outside at 4 or 5 or 7:30, unawake
She likes her face, she likes when she needs space, she understands what you meant
she makes a point of pointing out what’s problematic stuff, and what aint
But aint specificity bliss, when your stranger encounters strange accidents

Anyway, I mean to wonder if it’s fine if she’s never anywhere again
This love aint plausible, I don’t even wanna be her friend
I swear I showed up w a tiny animal, but then so also did her man
But aint two a problem for milwaukee? And aint I glad that I ain’t him

Any regional Bird

an ode to One more day of Winter-- mixed and effects by Scott Crandall

the water from our boots is on the floor
we caught the shuttle advertised above the door
you overheard your buddy on the phone
saying I’m faded but I want you when I’m alone
you miss talkin to him in his home
and I miss ya’ll being such good sports
lines fall from the window blinds
And you cry, on a late night talk show
and what the hell did we come here for
these are the winter things and this is what theyre for
but these things too will be melting soon
the verdant gold mitts you wore

a Tough Day for Cigbird

Michelle

backup vox by squaredog

https://soundcloud.com/squaredog_squaredog

Tigerbride