Life you told me On my knees you sold me But only for a day Held my face said don’t cry Soon you’ll understand why Tiny price to pay.
But it hurts sometimes Can’t explain why I gave you my faith Why do they go away?
Moon falls down To the room beneath the ground Where all the memories don’t fit. Open a box to find you Shut it down to bind you In the darkened corner where I sit.
But it hurts sometimes Can’t explain why I gave you my faith Why do they go away?
And the moon roll down Thru the tunnel under the ground Where the memories remain In the corners where they crouch Their little hands reach out Another drop of rain.
Pain like a paint stripe Your face the dark of night You crawl across me like the moon Laying down for a surprise Your fingers on my eyes Didnt know you’d disappear so soon.
And it hurts sometimes Can’t explain why I gave you my faith Why do they go away?
Life you told me On my knees you sold me But only for a day Held my face said don’t cry Soon you’ll understand why Tiny price to pay.
But it hurts sometimes Can’t explain why I gave you my faith
I have been wearing yellow tinted glasses today, which makes it a bit easier to find words to express myself.
This is one of many songs I have written about protective spirits, the sorts that follow a person around. In this case, they are spirits of the air. They help a person to avoid danger, but if the emotional connection to them grows too strong then a feeling of detachment from life can take hold. Because they are spirits of freedom & escape. Not spirits of building a nest within this world.
Although they do provide friendship to some extent, if a person is trying to resolve loneliness, fire spirits would be a better choice. Because they warm the heart & make it easier to connect to others.
Still, I love spirits of the air. They are always around us and never far away.
Step softly now.
See their hooded eyes.
Keep us close at hand-
You may need our quick advice
But everybody’s watching you- they got a lot to say.
Just keep their words within a jar- we’ll open it one day.
After all, life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
Step softly now.
Feel the hidden hand.
Through the bushes it extends to you
The outline of a man
Then he says hide! duck! back up against the van where he can’t see you!
Crawl over to the shadows where we’re waiting, for we may be the only ones who need you.
After all, life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
And how do you feel now, standing on your own?
Like a column made of fire?
A feeling that you could be quite alone.
Move quickly now- don’t believe you have a friend
They just like to watch you trip and fall- they’ll push you down again.
So quickly crawl back into the alleyway where he won’t see you
Back up against the tree and we will be there- perhaps we are the only ones who need you.
After all, life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
I have to include a random picture here for practical purposes. (Otherwise, Facebook attaches a photo I hate to my posts when I try to share them.) This is me at Blenko- a place where they make glass in West Virginia. It is one of my favorite things about the state.
Step softly now
See their hooded eyes
Keep us close at hand
You may need our quick advice.
But everybody’s watching you
They got a lot to say
Just keep their words within a jar
We’ll open it one day.
After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
Step softly now
Feel the hidden hand
Through the bushes it extends to you
The outline of a man.
Then he says “Hide! Duck!
Back up against the van where they can’t see you
Crawl over to the shadows where we’re waiting
For we may be the only ones who need you.”
After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
And how do you feel now?
Standing on your own
Like a column made of fire
A feeling that you could be quite alone?
Move swiftly now
Don’t believe you have a friend
They just like to watch you trip and fall
They’ll push you down again.
So quickly run back
Into the alleyway where they can’t see you
Press up against a tree and we will be there
Perhaps we are the only ones who need you.
After all
Life was never meant to be your home.
Life was never nothing but the road you chose to take.
Hi, how are you? I have been feeling weird, as though I have reached the end up some rope and there is no rope left to move forward with. The person I am used to being feels foreign to me.
Recently, I lost all my friends, probably due to Mars- the God of War- making his way through my House of Relationships. This forced me to detox from my relational self and once the detox was complete, I couldn’t relate anymore to my personality. I am, once again, a person without a personality, a crab without a shell.
And I feel aimless. Life feels dry and pointless. All I want is an adventure. But it is this restless feeling that usually leads me straight to the hospital, rather than standing atop Everest, an intoxicating breeze through my hair.
Everything is a swirl. I have written a million blog posts recently, but by the time I get to the end, my thoughts have shifted so far I can no longer relate to anything I said. Then I delete it. This will probably be deleted to, we will see. Word salad.
It feels like I have already done everything there is to do. I know this can’t be true, and yet every road *feels* like a road I have seen before. Why is this?
We all live in a reality, I guess, and that reality has parameters. Eventually, you get a sense of where the parameters lie.
Sure, there are books I have yet to read, but I feel like anything they say will fall within the parameters of the world I already know. Boring. I want to open a book and have a dragon pop out. He will whisper in my ear where I can find buried treasure. I will go to dig it up and thus begin an adventure of epic proportions, dissolving my sense of reality and replacing it with something magical & expansive.
I know it can be done. To step outside the walls of your reality into a world that is fresh and new. But how? I’m sure I could figure it out, if only my brain could step outside this swirling wind.
Here is a picture, for people who can’t stand words without pictures. These are some deadnettles I picked from the yard to make into deadnettle vinegar. I don’t know what I will do with it. Some people say it cures allergies, or maybe I will use it to clean the house. But deadnettles were covering the whole front yard this spring and I felt like it had to be a sign. Don’t you believe that the plants with the physical or magical qualities you need the most will find a way of making it to your door?
For me, this song captures what I see as the essence of West Virginia, which is earthiness combined with mysticism, violence combined with faith…
Fun Fact: Did you know that (in some circles) it is considered rude to refer to cats/dogs/etc as “animals” with the preferred term being “country folk?”
Where does he go? Where in the universe is what I mean… Does he fly endlessly through the skies sparkling, I was wondering?
Or does he sleep until the day has come to bring the spring? What’s if he’s always near, like a breeze lying here, softly listening?
First we die, then we’re born, robes on our shoulders worn- it’s written in our hands. He will come, then he’ll die, spreading out far and wide like sun across the land.
Wait for him, a cloud who bears the carriage of a king. He will bring the living, although we must bring the dreams.
Why do I cry? Why do I feel this way, is what I mean? Everyone knows the way life will go, always so, if they’re listening.
And when it hurts, it’s only nails forced through a screaming hand… Why can’t I learn to bleed always remembering it’s his magic plan?
Everyone knows the pain leaves and come back again, that’s just the way life lies. Throwing us on the wall, first we rise, then we fall; we’ve seen it with our eyes.
Wait for him, he will return on air so fresh and green. He will bring the living, although we must bring the dreams.
Why is it cold? Here is my hand if that is what you want… Look up there on the hill all the trees standing there waiting for their moment.
Why do I smile? Why does this passion fill me like a friend? I can’t wait to remain for the time of greatest pain when we reach the golden end!
Clouds will fly in a wind, everything begins again, you wish that it would stop… Waking up with your head bloodied in a spinning bed, it’s time to get back up.
Trees will spread in victory; they recognize their king. He will bring the living, although we must bring the dreams.
