just living is not enough. one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.
i don't think i'm gonna go to la anymore
i don't know what it's like to land and not race to your door
i don't think i'm gonna go to la anymore
i'm not sure that i really ever could
hold on to your hotel key in your bedroom neighborhood
me sleep-walking in hollywood
i'm gonna steer clear
i'd burn up in your atmosphere
i'm gonna steer clear
cause i'd die if i saw you
i'd die if i didn't see you there
wherever i go, whatever i do
i wonder where i am in my relationship to you
wherever you go, wherever you are
i watch that pretty life play out in pictures from afar.
LISTEN: there's a hell of a good universe next door. let's go.
but if a living dance upon dead minds
why, it is love; but at the earliest spear
of sun perfectly should disappear
moon's utmost magic, or stones speak or one
name control more incredible splendor than
our merely universe, love's also there:
and being here imprisoned, tortured here
love everywhere exploding maims and blinds
(but surely does not forget, perish, sleep
cannot be photographed, measured; disdains
the trivial labelling of punctual brains...
- who wields a poem huger than the grave?
from only whom shall time no refuge keep
though all the weird world must be opened?
) Love
No comments:
Post a Comment