Spinning, whirling
dancers in the alley.
Dresses turn and bloom,
dragging through the grime.
Joyful, smiling,
dirty skin colliding.
City walls are echoing,
for we are not yet dying.
Concrete calling,
precarious and falling.
Dancers stretch their limbs like
flowers from the cracked sidewalk,
marking passing time;
pulling joy from grime.
Published as lyrics for GODHEADSCOPE’s A City Out Of Sight LP, 2007.
Muscles quiver under paper
in a fiber grave.
Arms, interlocking,
press into the day.
Balance finds its gravity
only through points of three.
This is our only saving grace.
The weight of paper is piling up.
I cannot find another face.
Beneath the weight of paper,
we will build a home, with
walls that hold fast to the sound of
words we cannot know.
Column A and Column B:
never what they claim to be.
This is our moment's saving grace.
The weight of paper is piling up.
I cannot find another face.
Published as lyrics for GODHEADSCOPE’s A City Out Of Sight LP, 2007.
Do not speak falsely.
Brutal honesty:
far better a crime
than your silence denies.
Your tongue presses
the bottom of your mouth.
Words wait.
Tongues are cut out.
Tongues rise high;
lash the ground.
Place your tongue atop
the screaming mound.
Published as lyrics for GODHEADSCOPE’s Patience EP, 2011.