a ballad for bar fights and the shore

music and people
who ride out the storm
they've tied all their teathers
they've dried up their shores
lost in the city
they've worn out the lights
they've tried to concieve
they've tried
these ropes will never still
these ropes never still
keep swimming down the shore
your tired as a ghost
keep swimming down the shore
then when these tides turn
your screaming out
help me please
wheres the shore ive grown to love
wheres the one Ive grown to love
these ropes never will never still
ropes never still

...

pretty in pictures


he has made a picture of you

it was his way of saying goodbye
he didnt want to be in the water
he just wanted a picture
he wanted to look
he wanted a way to let things end
he ends where you wish things began
the chaos of the sea
for him it was a picture
one he could understand
years from now
years of eternity
you were acting out his goodbye
the way he would like to see it
letting you go to the shore
to the chaos
men need these pictures
and he will learn to start things
with the next girl
closer to the shore
things will start
where you left off
you will come up in conversation
as an idea
a poetic image
something he can have
for him
something he can create
this was for him
as much as you relate it to the past
and the warmth of his safety
you wanted both worlds
but realized where the lines
were drawn in sand
erased by high tide and the dreams of man