they were strange, the last two days

they were strange, the last two days
as the world kept flashing angry bolts around us, i’d catch headlines
and realize i had lost track of everything, everything that wasn’t you
and even then, i knew. these wars, these sounds, the random facts of that year
twenty years from now, they’d still mean: “you”, your name branded across times
that would belong to everyone

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from the first night to the last

from the first night to the last, your language was the rose
the red one, real and insane, foreign to me, soon familiar
in Paris you’d wait for the Indian man wandering into the bar
with his armful of colors
you went for red no matter what
later you bemoaned the roseless New York dives
though it never stopped you 
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and the quiet madness of who we were that spring


“and the quiet madness of who we were that spring
exposed and frail, caught unawares
“more and again”. we could keep that promise.
ten years. one week. days all the same. time, changing us.
what else could i give you? i called and told you that, and you whispered “thank you”,
like you had done before, like you would do again
for all we left unsaid never stopped haunting you
these ten years like some sacred insult
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‘Suicide Machine’ was originally recorded for Figure 8

with joe ranieri

“‘Suicide Machine’ was originally recorded for Figure 8, but in light of everything, I just thought it would have taken the focus off the music. I was uncomfortable with that. There is already enough in the lyrics to make the thing sound like a suicide note; that would have put it over the top. Look, I think it sucks to be Monday-morning-quarterbacking the outcome.”

Rob Schnapf