1. |
a letter
05:44
|
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|
It takes no grace
to hold me in your hands.
If your eyes can't see,
then I'll speak.
My words endear,
will this be the day
I'll do what I say I will?
You choose.
|
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2. |
to me
08:45
|
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|
I lay you down, and you hold your breath
while you should drink my love.
I hold out my hand, resting on your head,
but you're ashamed of my oil,
it drips from your neck.
I say, be clean, yet all of your strength
is used to wash your hands of me.
Wash your hands so clean they sting.
While burning your lungs, you can still spit.
And you spit right at me,
from the same mouth who loved me.
I bleed and I sing when you look at me,
when you learn that you can't see.
I burn to hear you speak,
to honor me, have fear of my position,
and turn green (drink from my stream).
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3. |
for you.
03:19
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Close your eyes and sleep.
Death is like a dream, and you wake up.
You have no power to sustain,
so close your eyes and sink right in.
Let me be something for you,
you have no right to call nothing, nothing,
or something, something.
An epileptic vision seen, you dare open your mouth and question his authority.
You've done well.
But tell me what you see, it's nothing.
But I call it something for you.
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Nathaniel. Milwaukee, Wisconsin
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