can i have your attention before
the span is totally closed? …it’s so close
are you gonna do something about this?
just like the rest of your friends
that have the millennium bends
it’s harder to dream awake
harder than to sleep the day away

here i am- for all to enjoy
here i am- my name is spaceboy
here i am- society’s toy
here i am

if everybody knew everything
half the world would kill themselves
and the other half would just make love
just go up on the street on any shadowless afternoon
and look real hard
you can make out the tear

here i am- for girls and boys
here i am- my name is spaceboy

and i’ve been around
i was there the night the city ripped in two
and i’ve been around
i watched them burn up the cash in twenty-two
i woke up next to a forest full of words
i took one look and laughed all day

you are not your mind.
you are not your mind.
you are not your mind

i used to think i was immortal
until it threw me down
scraped knees and locked up for the rational sound

for 25 long years it kept me going round
i’d bring it up- and bring it back down
i used to think i was immortal
but now i know for sure

and if you say you gotta go- well
you know i’d never blame ya
but when faced with honest love you just run

gavel is your guillotine

you know i hate it when you swing that thing around
it scares the hell out of me
inverse- and fear driven- judgementality

it’s the theme for a dying star
what you think you are
it’s the theme for a dying star
what you really are

and when you said you had to go- well
you know i never blamed ya
bad things come in groups of one

gavel is your guillotine

sarah is silent down on the southside
with a bold shock of redshift hair
watching the streetboys down on the corner
vomit white light into the air

off in the countryside
the christians wait to be alive
sarah takes the UFOs into her eyes

venus is barking up on the northside
glaring with her metric eyes
weighing everyone she sees
against some antique morality
with unconditional love

all the bitspeed in the world
ain’t gonna change the image of man
(not like a sound kiss can)
all the bandwidth in the world
ain’t gonna improve the image of man
(not like a sound kiss…)

off in the countryside
the christians still wait to be alive
but sarah slips right through the door into the sky

breathing underwater is an art like any other
breathing underwater is an art like any other
breathing underwater is an art like any other

i cry about the day one of us dies
searching for butterflies
in a dorm room with pornshop floors
i cry about the day one of us dies
at the hands of time
guessing sense out of the scars left in our sides

but still you laugh and still you lie
the raindrops fall like little knives

clouds roll over our town
and the water peels paint from the playground
palaces turn to rusted monkeybars
all kings are little boys
and invisible men live to smash their little toys
and the fortresses grow thick and tall

sometimes they catch us dreaming round
this dirty desert town
crazy’s just another word they have
to keep us same
to keep us down

but still you laugh and still you lie
the raindrops fall like little knives

the holy land is where you stand

I came because I had to know
now i’m flipping switches in the dashboard glow
see my blue face in the glass curve around
i float above the silent vine- pause for –
the way her waist bent just like time
then rocket past the point of exploitation
and east over the dateline

nostalgia ain’t what it used to be
still you wore it well…
you can’t wear it next to me

a kid so safe, naïve, and cool
democracy’s some word from school
i’m up here lonely as i’m strong
passing time on your dime

spinning dishes and smashing plates
are much more fun to watch from space
but no impressive bloodline is gonna
shake you loose, not this time
your cool idol grip just makes you blind
all the time

nostalgia
still you wear it well….

like something old, something new
something borrowed, something blue
shift something old to something new
something lifeless, tired, and true.

nostalgia ain’t what it used to be
and love ain’t what it ever was
and love ain’t what it ever was…

there are about a million ways to talk about the rain
and when you’re feeling wet i know
that you want to do it again now
of a million golden tongues licking from the sun
all of them will burn you baby- all of them
except for one

all equations breakdown at creation

je sais que la route est solitaire
je me suis laissé rattraper par les années
je sais qu’il y a deux sortes de mort
et qu’une n’est pas mauvaise
lorsque les miroirs disparaissent

all equations breakdown at creation

it’s been 6 months since i crept out past your angel face
through a fort of lithium and old lotto
they never thought their old miss
could ever shake like that
but that was then
and now is then

all equations breakdown at creation

the old car in the driveway just jumped backwards twice
like the pull before any good renaissance
now love and hate are kissing in the backseat
as it flies on down the road

raised in the shadows of sluts and rebels
jenny diver kept her pearls away
from the drunkest cassanova
and the bold crash city girls

an ill mind… the body of a dancer
leather the color of childhood
and a few other shades we never fully understand

and by the waterside she put my hands inside
and it was something gold      that day
by the waterside
i might just have found something
real

like a butterfly suture on a timeline
the way we raped fate
water rushing through the pipeline
here are the big sky days

and by the waterside she showed me how to die
and it was something gold      and i say:
you know it wasn’t half bad
i’m telling you now
you know it wasn’t half bad