air drops - penny lyrics
[intro:]
my watch leaked
(i can’t)
the seconds free
(fill all)
wore down the prints
(the sp-ces)
of my clean feet
(between)
i want to use
(the breaths)
the last air
(and sinking)
to do more than just breathe
ooh, i got that sinking feeling that left a hold in my timeframe
[rajbot:]
i’m saying
that if it
ever comes down to
the sinking
of this raft i’d rather…
kite strings, right things to say, swear that they float
and you’ve attempted to fully float like in a plastic-bag
[penny:]
besides, i’ve tried to write myself
onto the land
and it’s always the air that works against me…
my hands are keen on stretched-out strings
and i don’t think i’ll ever be ready to let go
of the pre-traced trail where i still float
[rajbot:]
but put my unfurnished oat into the hollow water
tried to tread it, push and shove it, love it away
it still blinks a whole splashed unsolved gimmick
salty dreams and mind watered up and down. broken
a make believe atlantis?
[penny:]
i can’t be in the position of a dry-neglected anchor-
the down-without-my-feet quirk
was only volunteer work
i know it suits me well-
i wear an ocean-sized coat of dripping clocks
that weigh me down too much
to try to walk over this moon-managed puddle
another step chopped off of the timecase
and for once, i can’t drop my sloppy hands to the dying day
nor mate them with a locked box
’til the rebirth of an upping sun
[rajbot:]
plus, you’ve got no lack of a leak to my name
it’s a shame if this tide wanes we’re finished
down into the open bottomed darkness
i wonder if there’s anything worthwhile in the murky afterlife
because i really wanted to grow some ideas
but not on a kelp garden
not with guppies or
sea-pen and octopus ink or broken bottles and junk
that end up on the bottom of the seabed
[penny:]
i haven’t mastered my magical parking tickets, yet
or given the proper handful shake o my -ssistant: the tire chalker
i left my emptied coffee pot on
next to my bedside
and wonder who i should’ve willed my closet to
or the straightened rug i walked above
[rajbot:]
or swam below, i know i smell like time off a
parking meter that i’d asked for
[penny:]
though i do admit there’s comfort
in the inevitable sinking seat
i can’t say i’ve ever felt quite so far from the sky
and for the first time
i fear the sun n’ moon exchange
will close out their balance
and help drain what’s left
of a ceilinged pigment
we can play puppeteer with the rest of the day
and pretend that a set of dancing hands
will tailor the dimming
like a stage-frightening curtain
and give our yawning earth another spinning
[rajbot:]
capsized, in memory with a brighter deacon, less than a funeral
for a sailor, sinking feeling falling following a flailing
limb like clock-hands in overdriven motor folly;
you know i want to use this time much better
[penny:]
see, that’s why i shut myself up in the roofing business-
i knew i’d never make it under the sun…
my lungs have learned: sealed-up
like uncut rooms through the turning skies
and now that i’ve decided to climb, this once, with the light
a breath broke through to freshen my concept of night and dying open
up and off the untouched ground:
a sense of how down feels in a cautious bomb
at least we tried to sketch a circle for our setting selves
but the sky has drawn that line for a long time…
(outro)
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