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Description

These Psychic Fields

From the hotel window
The city is a kaleidoscope
Of blurred light

In the bedroom mirror
You voice your positive affirmation
Once, and then twice

The nightstand offers
A torn pack of baseball cards
And an empty bottle of Sapporo

You watch another Twilight Zone
Incredulous at the idea
There’s two hours until tomorrow

These psychic fields
That connect you & me
It has to be real
Our gap in notoriety
You feel like you are no one
Not even worth the
Strings I strum

In the lounge there is a locker
Left abandoned
Tagged with graffiti

Everyday you see a skull exploding
While dining on your
And memory

There was a moment of momentum
And then all the good luck
Abruptly stopped

They considered you for the picture
Which was tinted and angled
And you were unfortunately cropped

Chorus

You think about my life
How you’d love to live in music
And sleep on a tour bus

You have one of mine
Stuck in your head
Specifically the chorus

You daydream of wearing
A leather jacket loaded
With money and swagger

When ponder living
Someone else’s life
The details never seem to matter

Chorus

Two men staring at the same city
Only, from different
Windows

I am burden by the excess
Of hope I carry
While you nurse your thimble

We both got drunk
Couldn’t dream, even with
A warm body in our bed

Neither of us could touch
The sudden snowfall upon
All the living and the dead

Chorus

So, both of us wandered
Out of our hotels
Which were directly across the street

It turns out Madison Avenue
Is a perfect place for
Strangers to meet

We made eye contact, commented
Mutually on the flurries, you joked about
The shabby slippers on my feet

Though you probably regretted never mentioning the album
You once made

Your humor before fate,
Allowed me later to stop resisting sleep
And fade

Chorus

Coda:

What’s the worth of two men?
One having more than the other
Could we have been friends?
Discussed both having a mother
We separate ourselves, defined through
Cause, career, and achievement
We stare up at shadowy walls
In the evening
Having never really believed
In any of it

1. Chorus