Hell Ya...WARPAINT

Undertow Lyrics

Your brown eyes are my blue skies.
They light up the river that the birds fly over.
Better not to quench your thirst.
Better not to be the first one diving in,
though you caught me and you know why
they breathe in the deepest part of the water

What’s the matter? You hurt yourself? Open your eyes and there was someone else?
Now i’ve got you in the undertow.
Now i’ve got you in the undertow.
Why you wanna blame me for your troubles?
Ah ah ah you better learn your lesson yourself.
Nobody ever has to find out what’s in my mind tonight.

Let tonight pass us by.
Do you really want to be the one to fight?
And i said “You’re better not to light that fire.
It will take you to the darkest part of the weather.”

What’s the matter? You hurt yourself?
Opened your eyes and there was someone else?
Now i’ve got you in the undertow.
Now i’ve got you in the undertow.
Why you wanna blame me for your troubles?
Ah ah ah you better learn your lesson yourself.
Nobody ever has to find out what’s in my mind tonight.
Nobody ever has to find out what’s in my mind tonight.

Nobody in my mind. Nobody in my mind.

I feel it in my heart tonight.

I laid on the floor pressing in my eyes.
Seeing little lights.
These are the decisions that only one could make
I wanted to stay home but i went running running running running from the troubles
runningrunningrunningrunningrunningrunni ngrunning

What’s the matter? You hurt yourself?
Opened your eyes and there was someone else?
Now i’ve got you in the undertow
Now i’ve got you so
why you wanna blame me for your troubles?
Ah ah ah you better learn your lesson yourself.
Nobody ever has to find out what’s in my mind tonight.
Nobody ever has to find out what’s in my mind tonight.

from the streets of New york, begging for inspiration and reading many words

i have found a poet that i love and his name is Jack Gilbert

"How to love the dead"

she lives, the bird says, and means nothing

silly. She is dead and available,

the fox says, knowing about the spirits.

not the picture of the funeral,

not the obect of grieving. She is dead

and you can have that, he says. If you can

love without politeness or delicacy

the fox says, love her with your wolf heart,

as the dead are to be desired.

Not the way long marriages are,

nothing happening again and again,

Not in the woods or in the fields.

Not in the cities. The painful love of being

permanently unhoused. not color, but the stain.

GUILTY

The man certainly looked guilty.

Ugly, ragged and not clean. Not to mention

their finding him there in the woods

with her body. Neighbors told how he was

always playing with dead squirrels,

mangled dogs, even snakes. He said

those were the only things that would

allow him to get close. "look at me"

the old man said with uncomplaining

simplicity, "Im already one of the dead

among the dead. Its hard to watch things

humiliated the way death does it.

Possums smeared on the road, birds with

ants eating out their eyes. Even dying rats

want privacy for their disgrace.

Its true I washed the dirt off of her face

and the blood off her body. combed her hair.

I slept beside her, at her feet for two days,

the way my dog used to. I got the dress

on the best i could. She looked so neglected.

Like garbage thrown in the weeds.

Like nobody cared he had done that to her.

I kept thinking how long she is going to be

alone now. I knew the police would take

pictures and put them in the papers naked

and open so people eating breakfast could

look at her. I wanted to give her

spirit enough time to get ready."