Music and lyrics by Damon Waitkus
When you’re away,
I soften myself for you.
It takes some time, but not too much,
to uncoil in the sun of separateness
like I’ve come shivering from a lake:
September’s end, the breeze is edgy,
but this stone warms me for a while.
Then the blue tracks of your inwardness
shunt me on the stairs and end in a tangle
of books by the bed
where you sigh into my failures.
Or is that just your breath?
Went to a shop to kill some time:
hands chase in circles
antique phases of the moon.
“Look out!” comes an old voice.
“You’ll stare for fifty years!”
I kiss this axe that tears me through
doubt and intention to the ground
of molten heart
where a beaming stranger stands.
I wake in the morning
with our bird pecking my eyelids
before she lifts
and the day self-assembles
so fluently around your given light,
I blaze into the present like a child.
Damon Waitkus – lead and backing vocals, acoustic, electric and baritone guitars, keyboards, recorder, melodica
Jordan Glenn – bass drum