Jetplane Landing Writing The Ways Down
I am, I am, I am
So full, so full of emptiness
I sit alone in airport gloom
Not like the journeys planned in '98
I wonder when the switch was flipped
But no process of elimination will ever dam this search for reason
Oh father make me a lethal instrument of words so deadly they will never mount a counter-attack
I'll give it a name
I'll tend it tenderly
Collate its messages of solace for the tired and spent
Conformed and afraid more than we've ever been
And as your requiem a patient undivided offense
I flick through words you inked in blue
I wonder why some have been underlined
We congregated there at noon and shifted awkardly from foot to foot
While 'sweet and low' knells out its groove you were the essence of a celebration
There is an irony in its lack of volume
There is no profit in this isolation
Make everyday seem like the last
And in the chaos of our own decisions what use is a safe place to land?
They stole our language
Whitewashed our history
I choose to write it down
I choose to write it down
Eviscerated
Now all is entropy
I choose to write it down
I choose to write it down