1. |
Dimensions (Demo)
03:31
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can't you feel i'm close to you?
through the walls of our tomb, we reach
and we think we can hold,
but our enemy is not time, nor distance,
but dimension.
can't you feel i'm all right there?
it's like an infinite video loop, where each
video's a different you;
i feel your hand on the glass
of dimensions.
there is a dimension,
very close to this one,
where i tripped on the escalator and died
that one time and
there is a dimension,
very close to this one,
where i found the love of my life
at seventeen.
i know cos i fell for him in this one.
i know cos i fell on it in this one.
i'm glad i can see the timeline from this side
sometimes.
how do i know if this is the right one for this one--
this version?
sometimes i can feel that we're safely within our limits,
but is it only because we live in the overlap
of dimensions?
--
can't you feel the stems of things all around you
that you cannot control?
i think if God is infinite, They've got
more eggs than this in Their basket,
They've got more endings than we can fathom,
They've got love for every single version of us
and we should remember that any feelings of
hopelessness and fate are problems of scope,
and infinite dimensions means infinite hope.
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2. |
One, Mom
02:45
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i lay down in the shower (and cry)
i wonder if our friends are still mine
i don't listen to music on the train anymore
i wake up at seven (and cry)
i wonder if you'll like what you find
always sad, but i have never felt like this before
i thought he was the one, mom
but i guess that i was wrong
sorry to call you on a saturday
but mom, something bad happened today
and it's gonna keep happening every day
when i look in the mirror i cry
blow my nose in a bottle of wine
i can't eat, but some nights i can sleep
but every time i close my eyes i cry
because you are there in the front of my mind
it's different now, to be the man of my dreams
i thought he was the one, mom
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3. |
Know Nothing About Death
03:18
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for Barb, for Len, for Diane, for Diupur.
i am travelling in a box in the sky
to get to a box where someone has died,
or will die,
but the physical body is only a box.
how could we live with ourselves if it was not?
when i was a child, i'd imagine
a coffin woven of willow branches:
porous to breathe through, with little holes to see you.
so sure of the afterlife, this would help me sleep at night.
i spent my time laying on the slate
roof beyond the cemetery gate.
if you laid below the lip of the stone,
the cops wouldn't find you and you'd never have to go home.
death is built in our DNA.
it's a barrier beyond which
we'll never reach if we keep wanting more time.
i have a friend who was already dead when we met.
his name is Thomas and he died when he was 16,
he is buried all alone beneath a tree.
we'd meet at his house and he'd let me cry and dance on his grave
and i let him lie.
but sometimes he would rise to meet me on the wind,
at first i wasn't sure if it was really him,
but it's a kind of warmth-- i could feel it in my skin
when i let it all out and i let him in.
death is built in our consciousness.
it's a new phase we don't understand
and we never will if we keep wanting more time.
it's not what Leary said (he said that more time is the answer),
but if i give it more time, am i not like a stone on a river--
ice in the middle of winter-- bitter witch gonna wither--
when you hold her hand you are giving her time.
and as we fall slow the leaves start to yellow,
i watch them fall through the window.
there on the trail where we buried him in the morning--
these things always happen without any warning, and
where will you be and what will you be doing?
who are we if we don't spend our whole lives proving it?
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4. |
Oblio (Two Verses)
02:06
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little Oblio,
with his cap on, his hands tied,
once journeyed the seas as an older man.
he left Arrow behind,
because the dog had grown older,
and craved for the solid ground
like an old man does.
the sea was wide and it had many rings around it
stretching into the sky,
stairs like a rainbow highway,
and he climbed.
Brother Francis laid it low,
even unto heaven's gates.
he cried in the temple with a fever so great that he roared.
with his knees in the earth like the
King of Pentacles,
he built his love of stones and Latin syllables
and pure devotion.
he climbed the ladder of the soul
and at the top there was "want for nothing."
still, he climbed.
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5. |
Dimensions (Outro)
02:04
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the hardest part of discerning an arc is knowing when it is finished. the dark can obscure, but the future is sure, it's the present that changes every minute. it works like Merlin-- learning that time goes backwards gives every moment its purpose.
i know that this road is closed, but i know it will open again in the summertime, cos i know that you're under the mud and the dirt and you will rise like crocuses in spurts, but i ain't waiting cos they told me not to: the magic eight ball and Waite and Thoth too, because the top Fool doesn't anticipate his hop to the bottom.
i'm not lost without you, i've got God, i've got truth, i've got a wizard's lineage and visions into the abyss; i've got a million ids in my skin prison; too many voices to listen; too many choices in this incarnation of time to be worried about yours and mine.
i feel your hand on the glass but i can't push you over the line.
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Singer Joy New York, New York
vocals
ukulele
theatre
erotica
collage
saxophone
SJ
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