let’s begin at the end of a bad year
with bad things at my back
a tragic truth i’ve been slow in learning
is there are certain breaths you simply can’t retract
every deep cut, every back beat
every sound i send into the street
still living
on display, ricocheting off of walls and drop ceilings
the songs i spend on her never stop repeating
but so it goes, these blunt punches sting
but they’re just glancing blows
searching for the heart of a thing
this snapshot’s all i can provide
of a wet beach, a dry beach
not shifting of the tide
every deep cut, every back beat
every sound i send into the street
still living
on display, ricocheting off of walls and drop ceilings
the songs i spend on her never stop revealing
the songs i spend on her never stop repeating

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