1. |
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The planet was born spinning
Never planning to make its move
In space there’s no clockwise
No risk of being misunderstood
Some planets move left handed
Ours is empty handed asking for more
From god’s hangnail moon hanging next door
Cat scratching on the sky and what for
Some of those microcosmos
The planet was born in the backyard
No gender reveal, but plenty of blue
In time, there’s no more time
No risk of being caught behind
Black hole blues about the way it goes
The planet asks for another song
From god’s hang-ten stars surfing along
Cat scratching at the black so long
For some of those microcosmos
And if I were bound in a nutshell of infinite space
That’s where we crackle in good grace and see face to face
We cut our context into pieces we can swallow
But something that melts was never hollow
But full of microcosmos
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2. |
Look Out Below
03:13
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Why do we name hurricanes after
Spirits that have already waned
Laura’s ripping through those Texas plains
Now that isn’t like her
Though she was a fighter
She’s here to stay
If only in her name
Causin’ storms
Why did we tell
Pennies about wishing wells
Saying spooky spells as they fell
Gone spelunking in deep dark abyss
Could’ve used ‘em for a hershey’s kiss
But there’s some tenderness in resigning to a wish
Blowing out those candlesticks
Wishin’ for more
Why do we sing
My country tis of thee
We’re far away from that guy as can be
Santa’s Jesus Christ’s right-hand-man
They’re turning wine back into water again
It’s melting all the snow in the land
Dashing to and fro
Look out below
For your lord
Causin’ storms
Wishin’ for more
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3. |
Green and Growing
03:55
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Are you peddling yourself again
Your lifespan like a talisman
Are you the tallest man
Did you find a ride to the horizon
Are you meddling with hell again
Counting the cracks in the sidewalk ‘til it ends
Are you the smallest sin
That could slip down to the mass of no man’s land
Where the sticky grace is see-through thin
And the horizon inverts into the ceiling
And you wake up in a bed green and growing
Are you a(head) with no shoulders again
Have you been thinking without breathing in
Do you have a big fat plan
Have you devised a ride to the land of heads
Are you making daily bread sweet friend
Have you proofed it until its alive and billowing
Have you found a way into the oven
To bake with love
Where the sticky grace is see-through thin
And the horizon inverts into the ceiling
And you wake up in a bed green and growing
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4. |
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I didn’t see no horse
I didn’t see no spur
I didn't see how you could rope the world in your lasso
You got a big guitar
You got three old chords
but they don’t tell no truth
You have three chords that make your lasso
and their names are empty tame and ugly
It’s on the tip of your tongue
The timeless troubadour song
You got her under your thumb
Her name is Hejira
She’s gotten under your skin
She made her bed in it
Tell her the one again about
The nudie suited outlaw
She’s not some steel-toe-booted cowgirl
But even she can see its empty tame and ugly
You said you’d make Hank proud
But all your buckets got holes in ‘em
You said you saw the light
But even the devil can’t afford your soul
so you’ve been selling swaths of darkness
All in shades of empty tame and ugly
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5. |
Dancing to Hold Music
04:10
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There was no good in the way I went about that
There was no bad in it, there wasn’t anything
To hold onto, no handle of yes-and or nothing
To say nothing holds the shape of everything
There was no good in the way you walked out the door
There was some bad in the way I locked it behind you
Forgetting you were the only one to have a spare key
And the mold was made from the back door of the defunct bar down the street
There was some love there
There was no good in the way I kept my mouth shut
There was no bad in the things I hid away
But the hiding splintered all of the things I had to say
And refracted my care into a sun streak over the day
Dancing to the hold music for hours on end
Dancing to the hold music forget what you intended
And then a voice on the other end chimed in and said:
What have you been waiting for don’t you already know how this ends?
There is some love here
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6. |
What Might We Find There
03:45
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Like a burp in the middle of a kiss
Or hiccups in the middle of speech class
I am electric, I am interruptive
I am asking for the hall pass
So I can travel unseen
to the nether regions of your dreams
And see if they might accommodate me
Somewhere in the middle of the story
I refused to protagonize further
Right around with the rising action
I insisted I must be another
Kind of character one with a hat
Much rounder someone that uses a map
To see if it accommodates them
And what might we find there
Measuring the cosmic stairs
It's unfair
What might we find there
Spin it again like a dare
Tell me to breathe and I’ll explode with air
With the insistence of an artichoke
I tried my best to seem healthy
Right along with our climatic climate I was warming, I was ripe, I was ready
to be more informed, to eat less corn
to turn my endings into some sort of a beginning
And what might we find there
Measuring the cosmic stairs
It's unfair
What might we find there
Spin it again like a dare
Tell me to breathe and I’ll explode with air
I’ll explode
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7. |
I've Got the O's
03:47
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Like the bird’s nest in the VALERO sign
I’ve been making home in the O’s I can find
O when I in awesome wonder consider
that insects scare the hell out of me
So infinite yet beneath my feet
O to be armored and attentive
to have antenna that dial directly
To your cosmic radio, O, your cosmic radio
all signal, no static, always home
I’ve got the O’s
And I suppose
I’ve got the oh no’s too
O to be a blade of grass expecting nothing of the morning but dew
O to hit empty and pull into that valero and O to be full
To act like the hunger is real
To know that the hunger is real
To respect the hunger is real, armored and attentive
I’ve got the O’s
And I suppose
I’ve got the oh no’s too
O to be so certain of the darkness to fall asleep
that you can close your eyes, fall really deep
Close your eyes, fall asleep, and be free
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8. |
You Got Under My Skin
03:40
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9. |
Big Ole Head
02:16
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You’ve got a big old head
And that’s a compliment
I’ve seen all those things you’ve said
Sprout and bloom into offerings
Now I can stand to hear
you rave about John Donne and Voltaire
They’ve been steeped over time and aged
Bubbling in your mind like a fine bolognese
And if your head shrinks in the weather
For worse or for better
I’ll help you measure
We’ll get it right on its screws like we do
You’ve been a good ole friend
Even when I haven’t been
I’ve tasted your thoughts and kept chewing
I’ll spit em out when you’re afraid that you’ll lose them
Now I can stand to see
You take a little space from me
If you need a sip of fresh air
I’ll hold the space between us with care
And if your head shrinks in the weather
For worse or for better
I’ll help you measure
We’ll get it right on its screws like we do
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10. |
Smallest Mercy
03:03
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The smallest mercy
In February
Being the shortest month
When it’s the grossest one
The softest pointing
of the cat’s curiosity
He kills the stink bugs for me
leads me to their point of entry
The smallest mercy
Is mercy enough for me
To keep me sticking around here
And waiting for another one
The empty delight in being dead right
When you haven’t looked at your phone
or your clock
or your dash
and still you guess the exact right time
The empty delight
in being dead right
at least enough of the time
to keep around and pass some more by
The smallest mercy
Is mercy enough for me
To keep me sticking around here
And waiting for another one
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11. |
Hot Soup, Cold Bowl
03:25
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As certain as Christmas
As pagan as a pew
As familiar as a kind stranger
Is my love for you
As processed as velveeta
As complex as campfire stew
As sacred as saltines
Is my love for you
If god is love then I’m made holy
By my love for you
As something as nothing
Still means something if it’s true
As pocket lint collects in the dryer
Over time like morning dew
If god is love, then I’m made holy
By my love for you
Like hot soup in a cold bowl
Like a sunset without a view
I can’t grasp it but I’m filled up
with my love for you
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Lou Turner Nashville, Tennessee
velveeta mystic!
•
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