“Hypnotize Me”

When it rains, and the path erodes,

When the fog rolls in and my progress slows,

I used to laugh in my head, I used to cry to myself.

I’m used to cutting light loose, putting love on the shelf.

But then you saved me, darling,

With a turn of your head,

You built me a home with the tears I shed.

You said, Don’t hide your sorrow or the blood you’ve bled—

We were made to break so somebody could fix us again

And I’ve walked this road alone, dear.

I used to think it made me free.

But if letting love stay makes a man a slave,

Come on baby, hypnotize me. 

-“Hypnotize Me”, from upcoming EP 3. 

Who Random Men Transform Into When You Sprain Your Ankle Playing Pick-up Basketball

The Doctor: The Doctor is, in real life, a tax clerk or manager of a local restaurant, but when you sprain your ankle he instantly becomes some sweaty Dr. Oz, and despite the fact that the recommended treatment for a sprained ankle has remained unchanged and effective for centuries he knows that the REAL secret is to go to the bathroom and rub hand soap on your lower thigh for three minutes while biting on paper towels. His motto is, “I’ve sprained my ankle LOADS of times”, which he seems to think proves that he is an expert on the subject but really just proves that he’s an idiot and needs to stop throwing his body around like a ragdoll.

The Culprit: The guy who stepped on your foot, or fouled you on your way to the basket or who in whatever fashion was a direct or indirect catalyst to you injuring yourself.  Usually he will be really apologetic and uncomfortable, and rush over and say, “You okay?” approximately nine trillion times. He feels guilty for causing your injury even though it wasn’t really his fault, and now thinks he looks like the biggest jerk on the planet. “I was going for the ball!” is his motto.

The Interrupted Baller: The Interrupted Baller is just pissed at you for being an idiot and straining the ligaments in your ankle like a dweeb.  He’s mad because now the teams are uneven and if he’s on the team with an extra player and they lose then he’ll look bad and if they win it won’t even be that great.  He’ll just keep working on his form while you writhe around on the floor like you’re being exorcised.  His motto is “Just walk it off”, which is coincidentally what you’ll say to him when your ankle is healed and you track him down and punch him in the face.

The Fraternity: The rest of the guys present during your injury make up The Fraternity. They will stand around in silence 10-20 feet away and look at you kind of out of the corner of their eyes, like a bunch of fraternity brothers who just accidentally killed a pledge during a hazing gone too far and who now have to decide whether to come clean to the police or try or hide the body. Their motto is “NO WAY MAN I’M NOT THROWING AWAY MY LIFE FOR THIS.”

ocean’s envy

Does the ocean ever grow tired of being on the far end of metaphor, written into song only to describe the beauty of another? Does she ever say under her breath, causing her waters to splash and pound to hide her grumblings, “The woman’s hair of which the poet writes is nothing like my waves— can it upend the grandest creations of man, sending whole armies of sailors into its chilling darkness, and then mercifully carry them to shore and salvation? Can its motion endlessly and without rest carve out entire coastlines, reshaping the Earth with every pounding stroke? Do her eyes reflect the night sky in its completeness, imbuing it with a gentle motion like from a dream, or has her voice lulled to sleep millions of tired lovers resting within its rhythmic whispering? Her soul is not near deep as mine, and yet I remain without love— I, the standard of wonder and mystery. Where is my song, my lovelorn poet, and to what will he compare my beauty?”

“Genetics” lyrics first draft

we pulled off at a rest stop, still ten hours from home

feeling warm isolation in the michigan cold

over top of the rust-leaved trees I could see birds—

they were lined up in a V, headed south like us

but without any mix CDs

I thought, how do they know it will be worth it?

as I held my darling close

when it comes down to it, I guess they don’t

and they don’t know why they do it,

they just want to be where the days are long

they carry each other through it, so long as there’s a wind to ride on

it may look pathetic— it seems such a long, long way to fly

but its in their genetics to try.

we’re a poor generation, and i’m poorer than most

but i’m saving my pennies, writing a wedding toast

and i’m sorry you love me, and for being so young

and I hate having two lives and wishing them one

but then she says, i’ll come with you to midwest lounges

and run-down city bars

until the day they tie cans to the back of our run-down car

and I don’t know why we do it,

we just want to be where the days are long

we’ll carry each other through it, so long as there’s a road to ride on

it may look pathetic— it seems such a long, long way to fly

but its in our genetics to try.