The Leaver's Dance

"Because all my wings have grown and the winds died down, we all fall down."

That's what I thought I heard. It's like a poetic dyslexia when you find out that was never said at all. But it never leaves you. I still hear it.

I feel older.

I used to carry children's books around in my mind. Now I carry news and the decline of wetern civilization. I used to transcend the music but now it's turned on me. And I feel lost. Films are too real and I feel put upon and carry out more troubles than when I went in. And then I feel unfortunately found. Books telling me about what the hell is going on, and what the hell is going on?

My wings grew.

So did Finn. 17 years have been long and hard. Nineteen feels the strain and when the guitar is down, the dyslexia kicks in. Hearing things differently. Writing them down. Maybe I should too.

Or maybe I didn't hear that right.

The Veils

Theologians

"Theologians" - Wilco (A Ghost Is Born - 2004)

Banging on the piano like those religiously converted bar tunes of old - Theologians.

They nothing about my soul. They know nothing about themselves. Theology died with the Bible. It's all in there - it doesn't need to be interpreted. It needs to be read. My soul. My reading. Their soul. Their reading. Every man will give an account unto himself. Judgement Day isn't a television entertainemnt show that we all sit glued too. It's not a tabloid.

I never really cared for that AM station with deep baritone men and shrill women. This song sits between but belongs on the same station.

Wilco

Honestly

“Honestly” - Zwan (Mary Star of the Sea - 2003)

There’s no place that I’d rather be without you.

She looks at me with those eyes and lies again. I believe and I feel loved.
Some call it infection. I correct them and say perfection. It’s the same thing. That thing that gets inside. That thing that has wound and wounded my heart simultaneously. There’s something great about the worse that life can bring. That’s her.
I think of her as mine though I know it’s not permissible.

There’s no place that I’d rather be without you.

When she’s gone I loathe myself. But she never goes and I hate myself anyways. She makes me feel so full of empty. The love she talks about that fleets. The grace she promises that cheats. The cancer from her womb that eats. It’s too dark to discard this life with her.

There’s no place that I’d rather be without you.

I wonder if her heart is as long as mine. If I will gladly take the pain she brings. The horror of her grotesque embrace is so blindingly beautiful, it’s hard not to oblige her. Not to lean into her empty.

There’s no place that I’d rather be without you.

http://www.zwanmusic.org/