Shifting Ground

So its been a while now since you were lost out on your own.
Word came down that the prodigal is finally coming home.
If I could stay the same beneath the weight of what you’ve seen
I wonder if you were right and if to be hidden is to be free.

(If I stayed the same, If I stayed the same)

Beneath the budding sunlight, I see you washed up on shifting ground,
And buried to the neck in the haste.
The sunlight shows you standing on hallowed ground
Wiping the dark from your face.

So it won’t be long now ‘fore the whole town knows what’s done.
Are you ready to face their thousand faces if they come?
I’ve watched you for a few more days than you’d like and heard you say
You’ve come home looking for justice, to have him dead, to make him pay.

(If I stayed the same, If I stayed the same)

Beneath the budding sunlight, I see you washed up on shifting ground
Buried to the neck in the haste.
The sunlight shows you standing on hallowed ground,
Wiping the dark from your face.

I see your skin in the sunlight
(if I stayed the same, If I stayed the same)

Beneath the budding sunlight, I see you washed up on shifting ground
Buried to the neck in the haste.
The sunlight shows you standing on hallowed ground,
Wiping the dark from your face.

Open Air

Hair cut tight to her skin, and her eyes are dark and
The perfect tool to be fooled if you’re alone for too long.
Handed fingers extend and touch yours in confidence,
The perfect tool to be fooled if you’re alone for too long.

She fits right into you, if she could just be closer.
Couldn’t be brought to believe in her caught and leaving word.
She jumps to push me off, in her coming fit of age.
Couldn’t be brought to believe in a single word she said.

Know that she’s got to get out.
Got to feel open air on her face.
She’s got to remove and escape before
The worms pick the souls of her feet.

What good could come from staring at the stars, dreaming of their grounds? She’d ask.
If there’s something there that we’re not supposed to see?
How could I keep from staring at the stars, and dreaming of their grounds? I’d ask.
If there’s something there, and as long as I have two eyes left to see?

Know that she’s got to get out.
Got to feel open air on her face.
She’s got to remove and escape before
The worms pick the souls of her feet.

Western Sun

Like light in the west through the rain is throwing shadows
Enough to cover faces that I thought that I should want to know,
The names are falling off, leaving traces in the afterglow,
Suffused in the half-slippery light, I am pleased to let go.

Though I seek passage to forgiveness,
I still plan to leave you behind.
To placate unwavering conscience,
I’ll hold my guilt in weary mind.

The western call that’s rent from the dusk,
Comes from the twilight men who hold the sun in their hands.

Like light in the west through the rain is throwing shadows
Enough to cover scars of leaving earth, leaving our ancient home,
The days are falling off, one by one, we count the final tolls,
The sound is fading out, the studded mouths will keep themselves closed.

Though I seek passage to forgiveness,
I still plan to leave you behind.
To placate unwavering conscience,
I’ll hold my guilt in weary mind.

The western call that’s rent from the dusk,
Comes from the twilight men who hold the sun in their hands.

When the sun of light dips down from the heavens to touch the arid crust of the earth, this is the twilight.
And I, as all men should, tremble at the sound as it moves through the earth and air like ripples through the water, like voices on the wind.
We are the twilight men. We hold the sun in one hand and death in the other, as it has come to us.
We wait for the light, or we wait for the dark. We cannot choose, we can only take what is given…

Eastern Son

Two days gone and I’m just seeing…
Two days gone and I’m not sleeping…
Two days gone before time moves by.
Tired and unprepared to die.
Southern son sleeps at the end of the march, in dimming light.
Watch the sun set, and we turn our backs to the dark.

And I wont speak anymore.
There’s blood in the sky and it’s raining.
And I wont speak anymore
There’s blood in my eyes…

Turn till the eastern son is south of home,
And dusty feet can pack the ground.
Hide the mark of spade that moved the earth,
And hands that laid you to ground.

Words on walls your will survives.
Name and dates for the passing eyes.
All the time gone, and I’m still speaking with you, and not myself.
Southern son sleeps, while the rest of us toss like leaves in rain.

And I wont speak anymore.
There’s blood in the sky and it’s raining.
And I wont speak anymore.
There’s blood in my eyes.

Turn till the eastern son is south of home.
And dusty feet can pack the ground.
And hide the mark of spade that moved the earth
And hands that laid you to ground.

Anselmo

Said it was not unlike the hunt
Same as the primal kill.
As when we wanted of their meat
As when we wrapped us in their skin.
As when we tracked, took aim, spit fire.

Said the shape was the same,
If not the same close enough.
Same fearful of the sound.
Same weakness at the head.
El mismo peligroso si me salto.

And as I weep for my enemies with a bomb in my hand,
El ingles y su “lo mismo” son luchando.

Said it was not unlike the hunt.
Same as the primal kill.
Said it was not unlike the hunt...

But nothing could be further from the same.