Roots To Open The Parade Roots Roots Roots

Residency (An Application) I’ll apply for a residency somewhere across the sea where no one knows me I’ve got to get out of this city somewhere where I can breath It’s just your factual smile it’s the golden mile the things you thought you’d let go of when you were a child oh but how they all come back around and you can’t let them down so you try your best to hold them up but all they want is what you got it's the cold stream of the shower your millionth hour how can I collect your powers and bottle them It’s just a wasted try you’ve been trying all your life just take your mothers advice and put the loving aside for the dogs at night they don’t need your strife and I can’t stick around and wait for you to let it set in that this is your life and it’s already began to begin with rigor just wait for the day to set in before you say your done let’s make an escape And I’m not thinking about the flowers by the side of the road While your dreams are the colors of gold and the cold smoke that you sweat its just a bet and this is not atlantic city oh gee but sure your pretty but I just don’t have the time to waste

Can I Be Saved The homeless mile the hungry flight a poets smile a wounded blight Who tries to reach where the colors are Who tries to preach but never gets too far and all the greats they melt away into the fading of the day and all the heroes that could never be turn up unsung in history Whose notebooks are filled with stones whose stories were never told have a way of turning cold fade away into the old yellow roots with which they hold they turn to ghosts and I’ve been trying to comprehend what is the saving grace at hand and is there a way to escape the noise and keep my head filled with joy but artist is soon forgot left to rot in a mind filled with thought Who will brave the floods who cries when the last words are sung who’s heart is a mess of wires who creates for love alone show me where you’ve flown whose lips are the colors of the rain who has the strength to brave this pain who can combat the passing waves whose heart never drifts away whose love will remain whose love will remain whose love will remain who hears the million whispers of the hungry of the thirsty of the restless of the lonely of the unheard of the unhearing and it will be this way until the day you rid yourself of all your bearing fruits and all your colorless abscesses and your guilty faults and the vacant pains and you look to the boundless sky and ask can I be saved? can I be saved? and can I float into the embers of this burning fire? and let go of my body and my heart strings? and still feel alive? and walk through the morning misty dew? on the morning painted new? one day

While I Slept Ramona brings me flora and then with it comes the rain and I am out in the fauna trying to remember my name when late last night I awoke I couldn’t remember who I was there were three different angels who perched there head above my bed and one of them wrapped me in my robes around my head and the other took my arm and moved them down into water and the third look me in the eyes and said, “son, this is yours to keep, don’t forget that whilst you sleep.”

To Understand the Rain I’ve seen the artist try with no one to stand by to get at some ultimate truth and depict the holiness of you go leave your innocence with youth you don’t stand a chance it’s hard to speak the truth when all they want are fruits And I’ve seen that woman cry because her husband died his voice so crystal clear Is his spirit somehow near? are there angels among us to bring us towards our sacred rest to the sacred mother’s breast sometimes I’m full up with regrets and feeling lost in the stretch of time unto infinity where the body meets the heavenly is there something inside me to deliver me where do the innocent hide they’re gone with the tide there’s no place left to try have all the artists died? They’ll cut you from the side till you have no voice at all so all you do is crawl like the waste down the hall until your nothing at all just unfaithful and small I’ve seen the artist die with no voice heard or tried who never had a voice at all or the place to call a home to speak clearly to millions and have the privilege of visions and angels among them is it a burden to love, then? where do the poets stand alone with their visions of magic and there life force so tragic can such a voice be heard I’ve seen the artist die before he had the space to breath or the time to speak clearly or the room to speak freely while the tongues of fathers beget tongues of daughters it’s lonely in the gutter among the moaning lovers and I have seen love die in the blink of an eye to be gone tonight in the darkness of the flight and I’ve seen them wince there eyes and cry, they all just cry the poets and there visions to never reach the millions of hearts soaked in cerulean colors that could make you whole again and soaked in the rain can I one day understand my pain and be born again to understand the rain to understand the rain to understand the rain to understand the rain to understand the rain to understand the rain to understand the rain to understand the rain to understand the rain and be born again

Pablo’s Street You aint no mercenary and they don’t have any mercy for me shouting I aint read to be buried put up in a museum and hung to see and all their hauntings at me sooner or later they’ll destroy me how you look from your window with your hair a blanket of curls you’re staring out your window painting colors on the streets below on the poor angels that waltz by you aint there no where to find dreaming about the valleys and the streams of peoples eyes as you move them through the street and you look up at the stars the cold pale stars with neither love nor hate with neither reason nor fate just hung there and you left to wait I know it’s hard to look back at all your work in retrospect there’s not a stream of time running east to west through your windowed heart you wonder what you have left to show, you’ve played it all bare did you gain something with each year that passed so that for every time you cried with your Pablo Picasso eyes that you created something you could at last love yourself for or was it all for nothing and the first circle you ever drew was the most beautiful thing you will ever create in the long and restless street of your life

Learning to Swim (Part 1) Now I’m moving up and now I’m moving back down and now I’m moving up and now I’m moving back down and now I’m trying to make you hear me and now I’m trying to make me hear myself and now I’m up and now I’m trying to make you glow and now I’m walking through the door and now I’m walking around the room and I’ve just picked up my notebook With your images all flying around and the world that you said would bring you down but gladly your still around and no one ever carry me east towards the raging sea by the wild beast who whispers my name truly whispers my name In the old blue car carry me out east towards the ravage beast who eats the growing thoughts that I sometimes let escape Take care of me When I’m set free Will you take care of me When I’m set free Will you take care of me when I’m set free Will you take care of me when I’m set free Howl Howling Become Unbound so now will you wash

I’m Turning (Part 2) me over wash like a sheet wash like something new wash like something new turning I will keep each day a mystery standing out by the frozen sea can I ever truly be what it is I want to be And I’m turning into something with pearly teeth and a thousand arms and a hungry smile and a million miles and I recollect my health points cause they’re pointing north towards the freeway and see I have found you now I will never go back a mystery a vast world

Do the Birth Dance (Part 3) All at once Forming thoughts forming sounds from your stomach rise from the ground the seeds you planted In the stomach of the earth Little creatures rise from the dirt All at once I became unmapped no match no turning back I guess I have to grow I guess I’ll never know I guess I’ll have to show little creatures in the snow Will we ever know just how the meek shall rise (I want to be in a million paces all at once I want to be in a pieces like the sea I want to be in a million pieces spread out like the sea I want to be in a million pieces spread out like spread through I want to be in a million pieces I want to inhabit here and here And now I’m gong up and now I’m going down and now I’m trying to make you glow and now I’m trying to make me hear myself and now I’m writing down by thoughts in my notebook Just as they come to me I’m writing down my thoughts in my notebook)

Celebration Reprise Will you take care of me When I’m set free Will you take care of me When I’m set free Will you take care of me When I’m set free Will you take care of me When I’m set free Will you take care of me When I’m set free

Forming Sounds I sunrise hits and never cared before these times times comes wraping at the door you were a kid with hope living out your days in the snow forming forming sounds with no one else around a language only you had known II I sit in silent silent circles was driven from the dead I walked in languished forests I am followed down and forming sounds I still can’t speak their language there means are foreign still to capture something about this feeling and hold it in me still I was hungry then still hungry now I wrote a letter to you didn’t think much about what I said I wrote a song for heartbeats was drunken in my head and said I was younger then somehow younger now I thought I knew the difference as if just lines across I screamed I fought off the resistance words in my head I failed I said it and I knew so much somehow nothing now forming forming forming forming forming forming forming