train ride to the other side
Posted: October 11th, 2005, 2:33 am
i just recorded it
>> train ride to the other side<<
it's a huge file... like 7 megs
so if you don't have a fast connection,
don't click
... but if you do, thank you..
train ride to the other side
so we're all on the train, see,
a big long train with box cars, wild and free,
a far stretching train to a distant star,
a train en route to the other side of somewhere
from another side of some other place
and we can almost see a trace of our own faces
reflected in the glass while the world goes by sideways
and we're riding on the rail, a trail of us behind ourselves
over the hill, and we wonder and wander again and still
will we ever arrive? will we get there alive?
is this the train to heaven? is this the train to hell?
is this the Amtrak or a choo-choo chug on a Lionel?
are we going around a christmas tree in the middle of a room?
are we headed from one lonely town to the next
donning our specs, trying to read the signs?
are we headed past the mountain where
the old leather lady reads us Tarot
and the little lame rocker man plays his banjo?
where did we start? where do we go?
did we all get on at the same junction?
hey, i see the conductor with a computerized display
learning a new function of bits and bytes, just tapping away,
all of us in sway with the bumps, the turns, the yields, the burns,
the woooowoooowoooo of a whistle of inspiration,
and we're facing the absurdities and all our words are free
and we're writing poe tree pieces, hallmark rhymes, treatises,
epistles, love letters, dismissals, releases,
and we're all drinking Pinot Grigio, tappin' our feet
the beat going up and over the Chesapeake,
bridging gaps of minds with the tunnels of reason,
speaking the tongues of distance, hearing our own resistance,
walking fast forward in between the cars, trying not to trip up
but our paper cups can't speak and we try not to spill,
metaphors slung through box cars, you in yours, me in mine
until until until we see a mystery come clear at the top of the hill,
but it's not over still
it's not over
still
still
so still our hearts, so solemn, laughing like a windy day
taking our wit in spite of it, carrying us away
to foreign lands, the sands of the hourglass
drip drip dripping down past our history
into tomorrow, the sorrows, the glees,
and down on our knees we cry the sighs
of lyric, poetry our only friends, joined like a multitude
of siamese twins to the hip! oh god! what a trip!
and there's the C&O canal straight up ahead
and we're making allusions like pillows for a bed
as we're training ourselves to stay far from the dread
of Time as it rumbles, years as they tumble
behind and we are the verse, we are the rhyme
we are the double salt, the spice the thyme laced
in dreams we eat up in the club car,
far away poets drinking a toast,
boasting of nothing but the ride
we're all inside, y'know
we're all inside the flow of a pen
tap tap typing our spirits again
and we're getting our kicks, high on lit,
not knowing the destiny, forgetting the route,
we're figuring all of it out 'cause the train is our gurney,
no fight to the flight of the muse, carrying us fused
the sound of assonance and resonance,
our voices a fountain from our lips,
we're reciting the trip,
the journey the only end
the never cease
the release, the all,
since the call of Poets
riding the rail
can never fail
us now
wooowooooo!!! wooowooo!!!!
umchuggachug we're all here, ain't we?
free as our lines, dining on pain and love,
sweeping the countryside with a soft smooth glove
gathering up the mud from beneath the wheels,
'cause we can feel, y'know? we can feel!
and this is a train ride to the other side
we are the ride
we are the ride!
.
.
.
.
.2.4.2002
>> train ride to the other side<<
it's a huge file... like 7 megs
so if you don't have a fast connection,
don't click
... but if you do, thank you..train ride to the other side
so we're all on the train, see,
a big long train with box cars, wild and free,
a far stretching train to a distant star,
a train en route to the other side of somewhere
from another side of some other place
and we can almost see a trace of our own faces
reflected in the glass while the world goes by sideways
and we're riding on the rail, a trail of us behind ourselves
over the hill, and we wonder and wander again and still
will we ever arrive? will we get there alive?
is this the train to heaven? is this the train to hell?
is this the Amtrak or a choo-choo chug on a Lionel?
are we going around a christmas tree in the middle of a room?
are we headed from one lonely town to the next
donning our specs, trying to read the signs?
are we headed past the mountain where
the old leather lady reads us Tarot
and the little lame rocker man plays his banjo?
where did we start? where do we go?
did we all get on at the same junction?
hey, i see the conductor with a computerized display
learning a new function of bits and bytes, just tapping away,
all of us in sway with the bumps, the turns, the yields, the burns,
the woooowoooowoooo of a whistle of inspiration,
and we're facing the absurdities and all our words are free
and we're writing poe tree pieces, hallmark rhymes, treatises,
epistles, love letters, dismissals, releases,
and we're all drinking Pinot Grigio, tappin' our feet
the beat going up and over the Chesapeake,
bridging gaps of minds with the tunnels of reason,
speaking the tongues of distance, hearing our own resistance,
walking fast forward in between the cars, trying not to trip up
but our paper cups can't speak and we try not to spill,
metaphors slung through box cars, you in yours, me in mine
until until until we see a mystery come clear at the top of the hill,
but it's not over still
it's not over
still
still
so still our hearts, so solemn, laughing like a windy day
taking our wit in spite of it, carrying us away
to foreign lands, the sands of the hourglass
drip drip dripping down past our history
into tomorrow, the sorrows, the glees,
and down on our knees we cry the sighs
of lyric, poetry our only friends, joined like a multitude
of siamese twins to the hip! oh god! what a trip!
and there's the C&O canal straight up ahead
and we're making allusions like pillows for a bed
as we're training ourselves to stay far from the dread
of Time as it rumbles, years as they tumble
behind and we are the verse, we are the rhyme
we are the double salt, the spice the thyme laced
in dreams we eat up in the club car,
far away poets drinking a toast,
boasting of nothing but the ride
we're all inside, y'know
we're all inside the flow of a pen
tap tap typing our spirits again
and we're getting our kicks, high on lit,
not knowing the destiny, forgetting the route,
we're figuring all of it out 'cause the train is our gurney,
no fight to the flight of the muse, carrying us fused
the sound of assonance and resonance,
our voices a fountain from our lips,
we're reciting the trip,
the journey the only end
the never cease
the release, the all,
since the call of Poets
riding the rail
can never fail
us now
wooowooooo!!! wooowooo!!!!
umchuggachug we're all here, ain't we?
free as our lines, dining on pain and love,
sweeping the countryside with a soft smooth glove
gathering up the mud from beneath the wheels,
'cause we can feel, y'know? we can feel!
and this is a train ride to the other side
we are the ride
we are the ride!
.
.
.
.
.2.4.2002