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After the motorcrash,
When your head was south of sleeping,
And there were parallels.
When you rise, it won’t be long;
There will be wine, there will be song;
And there were parallels.

When I woke inside your den,
There was nothing there, nothing there.
Just some old maps of where you’d been;
There were parallels, parallels
All folding down and off the page,
In a tangled web of me.
The summer night you disappeared
Brought me levity.

So you can figure half a travesty;
And you can figure half of it is me;
But if you ramparts let his presence wane,
Well then the sunlight and the daylight will never spin your weathervane.

I am a man about town;
I’m esprit de corps;
And though we’re freshly shored from days of war,
I will see more.
We are men about town
Wearing kaleidoscope eyes;
Now what’s this I size?
Come to me, my prize.

(Fie, sea swell!)
Come, be my belle.
Ring my map.
(The earth to my parallels.)
When asea
(Fie, to draw my sight!)
You’re the moon.
The earth to my satellites.

So you can bundle strong, your majesty.
And you can martyr all that you can see.
But if you’re letting these caprices wane,
Well then the sunlight and the daylight will never spin your weathervane.

Pair perils.


from King Merriweather, released November 19, 2010


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