STICKS + STONES

sticks and stones have broken his bones before

he's been on the floor,

calling out to all the gods he's believed in

(believe me, I've seen it)

only taking what he needs

no more, no less

blessing the fists and baseball bats that beat him

(beat on the brat)

actually

"the colder it gets the warmer we feel"

he said

and I really believe that

believing is half the battle

(maybe even 3 quarters)

and all the daughters in the world

couldn't hate him/

safety in numbers

running up that hill,

killing the demons inside him

somehow

sticks and stones don't hurt him/

burning the bridges that burnt him before

"drop that tear in the ocean"

he said

and when they find it you'll stop caring

and sharing the empathy you have for me

and all the others on this flea-bitten planet

then he called me turquoise/

a boy, a man and everything in between

but that means nothing to me/

because right now

he is he as you are he as you are me

and we are all together

little things like the metal in his dimples

are what makes him human,

dancer,

father

and friend/

wishing on bones that ended long ago

when he chose not to fight but to fly/

jonathan seagull, beagles and black legs

it's all in the past and the faster we slowed down

we found that there's blood in a stone

after all

breezeblocks are no obstacle

the probability of life at sea and gin in teacups

all the more likely/

pointing the finger is easy

when it's attached to your hand/

walking faster and brown parcels are your priority

(sorry you feel that way)

what I'm saying is that he's a friend

put simply he's just another person like you/

looking lost but probably more found

than you like to admit

it's a superman/kryptonite kind of situation

one that i'll take with me wherever I go

so,

sticky - this one's for you

for truth, love and vodka

thank god you're here/

hearing what we all have to say

and (in a strange way)

we're the wayward strangers

who wish we could be more like you

blue lights

street lights

lighting a cigarette as you tell us you love us

well,

a bit of trust goes a long way

and my days would be a lot worse/

without your shotgun weddings,

jogged memory

and shaved head

terry lee

I'm only trying to remind you

that whatever's behind us can't cause pain
and the light at the end of the tunnel
isn't always a train