i’ve submitted the revised draft
and I think it’s better this way

The river crawls back to the sea, you see,
and we all turn in someday, too;
Whatever life gives us is temporary

i wanted the same mountain but a different climb
the sun is shining too brightly in my eyes
it feels just like an interrogation light
yet the future’s looking dim
Does that seem right?

My luck lies buried
beneath the lakes of Washington
All of the reasons to think again
and go back to Hangman Creek

There were things I’ll –
well I don’t know if I should say
But it’s true and I have a knot in my stomach

More time,
we all cried for it
if it could be born in between
the heartache of
Two contrarians
I’ll name it Janus

Eke out a little existence
this is the realm where no one’s listening
Tear off the masks!
there’s nothing really left so it’s time
to dig through the ashes
and reassess

there’s snow overhead
maybe we don’t need a radio
do people still know morse code
in the post-apocalyptic future?

/

Enough, right now it’s ground zero
there’s no time to build a memorial
so grab your guns and get moving

/

When I let someone pervade every bit of the world
then every bit of the world seems to laugh in my face
it’s like I’m George Bailey but I have no Clarence
so I keep trudging in the same cursed parade

and I never liked being on display
like a tiger in a cage
carving a line in the ground where I pace

but the cage of fibs is lying in splinters
it can’t keep the monster contained

the illusion was about maintaining control
it should have been letting go
because nothing remains pristine
and even new feelings get old

;

Ok

when all her feathers were gone
sweet down scattered on the scarlet bedspread
her fingers calloused from the loom
sweeping his hair from his forehead

she gave all her moonlight away
to the tide who brought her in
she fell from her leap of faith
and I believe that she deserved it

at least the cloth will keep him warm
through the nights he may wonder if anybody loves him
but you can hear her mourn
the cry of the crane in the cold sky above him

oh, to do it all again
all the dreams of a woman who loves her man
I know I’d do it different
because hearts never beat according to plan

cranes are too fragile
the world just takes and takes again
and men are too
because cranes can break and become broken