UNBEING

In a place called Lost strange things are found.
Sometimes while walking I catch sight of what at a little distance looks like a jewel or a flower and turns out a few steps later to be trash. Yet, before is fully revealed, it looks beautiful.
Along the road the strangest things are wrapped like sweet candy. Sleepwalking, walking through my glory. Asleep on a train,haunted,homesick and lovesick. Winter is coming. The flowers are dying. I'm in a revolving door spinning like a plate on a stick. Here in a place called Lost is easy to find the circle only have one side.

Sleeping with Ghosts

It wasn't always like this. I can looked back to the days of yore when i was a happy man. And one day that snake destroyed all the happiness I'd ever known. I'll never forget that day. I just came back from a long day of work. There was a note on the pillow. One of those cold blooded one's, "Dear John,I'm running away from all this." I could feel the breeze of fear filling my face. For a while i was obsessed with the idea of finding her. Her trail let me to Gland,London,Belfast and Berlin. I found out that i missed her by three days when i got to Quito. So much for high speed trains and French cocaine. Yesterday came suddenly and tomorrow was today. I had no life. I dance with the devil every night in a self destroying quest for answers that i probably did not need to hear. When you dance with the devil, you wait for the song to stop and when your Halo slips for good you have to wear your hood.
I've traveled a thousand miles and all men are slime. I've traveled a thousand more and women are snakes. I was holding to life with extension chords with Southern tendencies and chemical dependencies. My infatuation was getting worst not as much as my addiction. After years of searching in vain i found a reason to stop. Her ghost comes a visit every once in a while. No sparks. No light in the dark. I know this time she'll leave in the morning and come back some other time just when I'm about ready to convince myself that i forgot totally about her and that I'm not sleeping with her ghost anymore. All that you can ever change the one you're looking for. I traveled far, What have i found? That there's no time to analyze. No time to think things through or to make sense. Keep what you got by giving it all away.

Hello Pretty

Sick of drugs and dancing feet
Sick of bars where people meet
Smell of crotch and sheets not clean
Hairy men in magazines
Every city looks the same
Running from the threat of rain
Pillow talk that's just for one
Saturday get nothing done
Lie to me
It takes less time
To drink you pretty"

The Tall Kingdom I Surround

It’s all castles in the air.
My heart was playing like a violin. Sunday and she called again. Now where can i go?
Somewhere the wind don’t blow me back into the conversations,promises and situations.
All the dreams that you dream i hope that they are all me.

FUEL

Music has always been a matter of energy to me, a question of fuel. Sentimental people call it inspiration, but what they really mean is fuel. I have always needed fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio.