Music > Alcohol

I followed you through a hundred cities
I watched your eyes
I wanted to soak up your movements
….through the screen, feel the smooth
….easy vibe of your presence
….be all electric on my skin
because I can’t forget your hands
because the night I saw you on stage
….in the city that is home
……..to my most recent pains
….breathing the air that has been
……..my poison of choice in recent years
has become the night to hold
my future nights against
….knowing they won’t measure up
….knowing the music won’t be pure
……..because you won’t be here
….knowing the passion will be tainted
….knowing the moonlight will be jealous
the stellar configuration of December
abrasive against these city streets
in the wake of that brush with fate
the threadbare silk of the tired silence
snagging every so often on the question,
….did I rise to the occasion
….did I bring you as close to the fire
……..as I could,
….did I make sure there would be
……..echoes of me in every bottle of Jack
……..you would ever pour from after?

The lives, they try so hard to intertwine
on nights when they feel most acutely
….the threat of unraveling.
I have a stubborn void in my heart
for people whose calling it is
….to make such nights happen.
You think you’re only making music,
you call it a performance,
for us mortals you’re invoking dimensions
….where freedom is the default
and sin is just shorthand for ‘you need another’.
Another song, another exhale, another chance
another shot maybe of courage
….maybe of vodka.
We all wake up the morning after
….scents and debris of other people’s lives
….that we had pressed a little too tightly against
……..the previous night
….in our hunger to spark something
……..that lasts longer than a hangover
….still clinging to our clothes, our necks,
……..the center of our tongues.
Back to our prisons.
Back to the processed and packaged
….and missing your rawness.
And you carry our most sacred parts
with you, in the next cities that
the insatiable road takes you to.