He left his love in Laramie, staying with her family, walking along 3rd, waiting for his return. The wind had blown his body from Wyoming to Colorado where he lost his money losing the local lotto. The only way he'd return is if the wind had changed direction, then our faces would be frozen according to superstition. He heard voices in motel room mirror and when he went to sleep those voices became clearer.
She started thinking thunder & she started crying rain. In her lips was lightning - what else could her skull contain? 2:30 in the morning, goin outside to read the neon. Sprinklers in the rainstorm keep watering the lawn. She walked up a tornado like a spiral staircase with a countenance so calm, nothing shook her face. At the summit of the storm was an entrance into paradise. You don't have to die, just leave your skin and skull behind.
He heard voices from the motel room mirror
When he went to sleep, those voices became clearer
He saw face in the motel room mirror
When he shut his eyes he could see their features
The celebrate the centennial of the cemetery city where graveyards are reserved for the wealthy and the pretty. Families follow fireworks cutting through the clouds, explosions the atmosphere with ashes raining down. Relatives reminisce on prices of yesterday, when everything was cheaper - it was almost given away. Antique advertisements put the decay on display on broken brick buildings sitting empty along the highway.
from Soft Sunlight,
released October 15, 2010
Chris Bullock (all)