i hear them mumbling in the background as he goes into heaven.

fuck the club
and fuck da dj
imma be the one
that put the record on the replay
and if you feeling righteous
feel free to sing along
it's the "do what you gotta do" song.

yeah if you don't want me to read into it
write another book
i only read what's there
i'm not addicted to despair

back at home
at 4 am
and john coltrane plays
to my frequent ears
a little too much vodka
a little too much pain
a little too many kisses
from some boy who you wish you didn't know his name.
forward momentum on my wall
does my voice still carry a word to call?

been reading bourdieu
this dominant feud.
how can i change
what the populists view?
these rhymes are predictable
and so is my new-
it's old to those who've had it
and present to those who take the cue.

and the piano is gentle
and i'm good in my mood.
and i kinda wish he was here.
it's unfortunate
it's cruel.
and michael is dead
left eye is too
2pac went before
biggie sang the blues
seems the ones who carry the torch
are the first to fall
i don't wanna be a martyr
i just wanna stop the crawl
i wanna run
i wanna scream
i wanna be more than sexual insanity
i wanna be more than porn on saturday nights
i wanna be more than a bathhouse that sells right
i wanna be more than a wet kiss on the ama's
i wanna be more than Aids HIV and a bloody stain.
i'm trying though
i'm trying though
i'm trying though
who knows.

i'm a vodka mess
and this saturday goes to show
how few and frequent they come
at least there's no blood running from my nose-
i stop at the candy-
it's too much for me-
i'm holding back
there's nothing that this world can do for me-
maybe i can do for it-
instigate some permanent kick
i wanna cry when i hear george cables
"looking for the light" is the first song that plays
how tragic how right-
an ad plays against the spotlight-
advertising something i don't need-
trying to bombast the sweet eloquent tranquility of a
flute and a piano and America's music-
i want to scream out
"GOD! why did you do it? why did you make me this, why did you
abandon us, why did you leave us foul? why did you make your followers
such a cruel uncaring child!"
metaphysical mess,
blessed is the unrest
we keep moving til we find a stream
now i hear john coltrane
and his many favorite things-
and I hear a bit of God
in those saxophone wings
and it's okay-
it's okay i dream,
a little more water
and a little more time
just another kiss
and it'll be fine
a little more water
and a little more time
just another try
and it'll be fine.