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craggs-farallon - katie song lyrics
i trip on a tension wire
she iron an airless fire
i talcum a tungsten wire
she air out a warm desire
she hang out the tungsten wire
i outstand ontogy (entire? on tire?) fire
she iron a wayward wire
i trip on the warm desire
(way_out
a way home)
i trundle the tantic tide
she traverse the great divide
we always got company
this hallway’s going clean
what katie did for sand
carolina is under calm
oo, now she is looking to me
the bathroom isn’t free
katies’s in the kitchen now
rug’s down for sure
and up is more
i turn and freeze the lock
the lipid drop
a mounted pole
she turn into a grate
to take the shape
of a second door
a mountain moan
a pass aroam a clé (a rome of clay?)
she’s caught between
what i said and what i hid
i wedged into what katie did
saying
when you pulled me down
inside of you i
burrowed in
and then you wrung me out again
how many more?
way yo? way yo?
myut bun do?
way yo? way yo?
…many more
way yo? way yo?
maybe
1 2 3 4
to walk in catedral is all my own
to want in catechism’s on my own
to walk in catacomb is all my own
to want in supermarket on my own
you know when circumstances give a cart
one to one
one to two
want for sure
bevel make
bethlehem
bend to you
to come for
tomorrow
to comfort
one to one
one to two
want for sure
bevel make
birmingham
bend to you
to come for
tomorrow
to comfort
and to come to
and find yourself
wandering the universe
silent sarapied novas
sweet siracha scattered stars
and placid fields spiked with inexplicable ironies
inextricable iron needs
follow through the procession
move ahead with the charade
on their backs each carries subterfuge
oo, can i pantomime the dead
all the reasons end in eye (i?)
and brethel inner taper take (tape?)
conlon is our exemplar
he spoke thusly and i quote
have you seen another swallow water
i contest the way i k!lled it
well, it made another smile
reams of lebelin film starture
runways of arau
with every stairstyle imaginable
realize tectonic ideal
and then back outside again
in ways that swelter and days that brine
the last human reminders of father time
in the cavernous footprints of mayavadine
where i thought and thought and thought
until emptiness invaded me
and so i turned around again
oh what can be done in the interstices
we built a palace of fine arts
with a cornerstone in every cranny
katie and i left bicycles intertwined
against the brick wall braided with trellis vines
the touchstones’ erogenous (hero genus?) zones
what it means to feel at home
oh what it means to feel at home
_______________________________
seven saints and seven sinners
seven losers and seven winners
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