Only cool grass can touch my face the way wood can’t.
The paper looks blue in the soft light, and the soft floor is blue, like the fog morning dew.
Tonight is a night and today was a day. Tomorrow is out of sight but will soon be yesterday.
Pick yourself up and fly to the space that needs to be colored, and take with you the shade of the day, for only we can feel the depth of the night and the heat of the fight.
Where did we start and why will we end?
Dusk will come and take us away, while the stars up above shine the light of yesterday.
You tell me you’re right, but you shouldn’t have left when the score was so high.
Without us there is no game, but when we were open, nothing could reign, over us.
So now only clouds ride the air we once breathed as the sun lights a spot where one of us once was. The roof brings us cover from the loss of each other, but the floor has a way of closing my doors.
The wood on the floor shows traces of grain that collected the dirt and the lint from our stain.
So color the tables and push in the chairs, let the windows stay shut and the windows ajar.
Talk to the radio but don’t listen back,
Mixing and turning is the way we keep learning, so the rivers keep flowing without really knowing why the pebbles are smooth and the fish swim upstream. The snow turns to water and you don’t think of me.

What is it you’re thinking? You’re right here but so far away. The touch that you give me is not from my world.
When I speak, do you know what I’m saying, or is it just what you imagine I would?
Would you give over to me what I’d give to you? Would you say you’d stay if my life was slipping away?
Why do you do that? Why do you say that? I don’t understand.
I need to know. I know what you need and you need to show me the things that I need so.
I stay back a little so you wont shy away, but I want to be near you every second of every day.
So don’t build a fence, at least not without a gate or a hole I can see through.
I’m used to goodbye, and hug each hello.
I drink when I need to, and also for you, and a sleep is something we both share though apart, the blood in our veins is shared by our hearts.
Sitting is not standing, and flying is not living, but walking can be all of it when it is with you.
But I’ll wait. Waiting is what I do best when you are not around, and watching you leave lets me practice at what I do best.
Distance can be measured but not what’s between us. Time can’t be counted when I cant see you.

Don’t look at me like that, you make me feel sad. I know things aren’t great but they’re not really that bad.
Our minds have great eyes, better than our face. So keep yours open and let me see you.
Maybe you don’t understand at all and never will. Maybe it’s better we don’t understand each other. Maybe we are lucky in this. Maybe if we knew too much it wouldn’t be this good. Maybe if your distance disappeared, my dream would go with it.
So, you see, things aren’t that bad.
We can both see the Sun and the Moon and the ground, feel the smells in the air and the magic of sound.
When you touch something so do I, and when I taste something, you do too.

I’m glad I said that, even though you didn’t hear. But the fact that I said it keeps you near, my thoughts and my heart.
Did you hear me? Maybe you did? Of course you did. How could you not?
When a bond like this is real, every thought counts.
Maybe you didn’t wake up in the night to the noise of my thoughts, but I know they are inside you now.
I’m sure you can hear me. I can hear you. That’s why you are always on my mind.
You know that, right? I know you know. If you don’t know, I don’t want to know, no. You know that too, right? You know what I know. That I love you.
That’s why I wait, and wait. I’m good at waiting. That’s what I do. And the longer I wait, the nicer it is when I see you.
But I don’t wait for you to leave, I don’t know how to do that. It just happens, when you go that is.
But that’s OK, because then I get to wait again, That’s what I do best.

What day is it? Does it really matter? Are all the days the same, or do we need them all?
Tomorrow is out of sight, but will soon be yesterday.

Well, I can hear tomorrow approaching, and today leaving. Will tomorrow bring what today took? Will it want what today gave us?
What was that!? Listen! Was that the sound of Fate? I’ll sit and wait.
From where will it come? Which corner, above or below.
Does the sound of Fate bend, or is it always the same?
Should we sing along, or can we choose not to listen.
Let’s make our own sound. Let’s make it louder, with a beat and a bit of a tune. And we’ll make up our own words.
Who is this..Fate? What shape is she, or he. Round? What color? Black or gold?
Show yourself! What do you want? How do you know me?
Who the fuck do you think you are!!?
There are more than one set of rules I do believe.
Don’t hide! I don’t think we’ve met. Or have we?
Maybe that was you last year. Shit. I know you. You’re back.
I don’t recall inviting you, but you keep turning up.
Do we have to play by your rules? You’re a cheat! You looked at my cards before you dealt them. Not fair!
Do you do that to everyone, or just me? Ive heard about you, big, unstoppable, constantly waiting, like a big net that stretches right across our future.
You’re tall too. Need to build a big ladder to get over you, or a long path to get around you. Should I even bother? Should I just go with you?
What do you have in store for me? Is it good, will I like it? Or is it not so good. Bit of both would be my guess. I don’t think you’re bad, you’re probably good.
So you think you have your way now? Yeah? If I was arrogant I’d say “Well I’ve got news for you buddy!”, but I’m not so I wont.
Maybe we can work on this together. Some of our plans might fit in with each other.
Maybe some wont, guess we’ll have to fight over those ones.
But it’s not a fair fight is it? Even if I win, you’ll say it was you, when it was really me! I think.
Or could it be both of us? Nah. We cant fight over something then both claim the result can we? Buggered if I know. I suppose either way it’s win win.
But what if I don’t get what I want. That wont do! Maybe that’s when I put the blame on you. I’ll shine a torch on you and point you out. Make you responsible. You must be accountable. You’ll have to pay me back with something good! Would you do that? Maybe you would?
Does that make you good? Or misunderstood?
Everybody knows you, but does everybody get to meet you? Are you hear to help us speak, or are you just a sticky beak?
You help me out heaps, then shaft all my friends, then you turn it around, again and again.
Only cool grass can touch my face the way that you can’t.