10/5/2004

 

tree

 

Sometimes my arms are gelatin
Sometimes my arms are tree
I pull you in I push you away
It all seems stupid I know
But they are my arms
look at these hands
I can tell you about that scar and that scar
and how far

These are my arms holding on to all these things
just throwing away all these things

my shoulder comes off at the hip (always shoot from the hip)
just sort of flings itself out there (a boomerang hissing sound, a beer bottle whizzing by your ear sound)

you can pick it up and take it home if you want
you can wrap it around you
let it hold you tight

take me home with you tonight, me attached to my arms
(laid back in the cut)
you wonít even notice my stupid smile and my bad words
you can twirl n dance with my arms and I swear I will keep keep quite
I will watch, I will observe your smiles from what seems a million miles

My arms hit every tree in Belgium my arms hit every face in Washington
My arms hit shit and my arms drink beers and wipe....
My arms hold nothing when they arenít holding you

What can I do, to make you think about me attached to my arms?
This sort of gelatin sort of being
I want you to know that I am a tree