God bless the chaos, I'm ready to go
|
Made my provisions written my notes
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Too bad that folks remain on the earth
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To see me deny no to renew my birth
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And even my swallow my sweet one of all
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Will be angry and bitter and briefly withdraw
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For I've done much protecting and hiding of hardness
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The awful emotion I never could bear
|
I was always afraid to reveal what I'm knowing
|
Like I have a particular kind of thing growing
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Indifference, a bosom ally to despair,
|
Soaks itself in to the skin and the hair
|
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I keep all my cards at my chest without playing
|
The ones that I knew I was all this time saving
|
And rarely refered to it rarely gave clues
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That I had the deep sickness I tried not to choose
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That I had here inside of me a key to self-knowing
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So base and respected neglected and flowing
|
Perversion and what might be called paranoia
|
Description defies though the concurrent Joya
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And every corpuscle and each fold and wrinkle,
|
Subknuckels, perception of what's within my vision
|
And hearing distorting and feeling is lying
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But it never succeeds to prevent me from trying
|
|
-----------------
|
Joya
|
| Will Oldham |
