(From the Getaway series)
There
in that old room of yours-
the music that played
was the sound
of youth.
I was so young, careless and clueless
about who you were-
how much you would stay a part of me.
"But you don't really care for music do you?"
There
in that room
mattress on the floor listening to your music collection-
Grant Lee Buffalo-
Hefner-
The Replacements-
(and I thought I was cool).
But
it was the sad songs
that were answered prayers from a god
who hadn't been pickin up in a while.
You'd play Jeff Buckley-
Hallelujah would
flood your room
No Ark
No dove
No olive branch of forgiveness
We drown in
the sound of man with the voice like golden halo of light
proclaiming thou shalt weep for love one day-
(and that day will comes for all)
It filled the room like the light of a candle
inside of the ribs
filling us up
overflowing in you
illumining your great blue eyes.
It feels like love,
and its evil twin
at the same time.
"And all I ever learned from love was how to shoot
somebody who outdrew you."
the sad ones
Hallelujah
the sad ones-
the ones I would played with you there
the ones I would play even after you were no longer there.
Here
in this room the song plays
again after so long and the room is empty
Here
even with the one
who brought me back-
(even with her here)
Here
the
room is empty
smaller
cold
and dark
The song shines again
a halo
a halo
singing
"love is not a victory march,
Its a cold and broken Hallelujah"
The people in this room
disappear
she disappears
and for moment we are perfect
in your room again.
You sing into my ear again.
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