Luyện nghe bài hát Distortion

But I don't believe in ghosts or
I know that you are gone and
I'm carrying some of you around
Some old description in my memories
That must be your ghost form
Created every moment by me you so
Is it my job now to hold whatever's left of you for all
And to reenact you for our daughter's

I do
When I was a kid and realized that life and is just over
a point comes where we no longer get to say or do anything
And then what? I guess just
I said to my mom that I to do something important with my life
Not be famous, but just remembered a more
To echo my actual end
My mom laughed at kid trying to wriggle his way out of mortality
Of the inescapable final scream
But I held that and grew up wondering what dying means
Unsatisfied, ambitious and

The first dead I ever saw in real life was my great-grandfather's
in a casket in Everett in a room by the freeway
Where they me into reading a thing from the bible
walking through a valley in the shadow of death
But I understand the words
I thought of actually walking through a and a shadow
With a and a tent
But that dead body next to me spoke clear and

In 2001
After having spent the summer and fall traveling mostly alone
The country that was spiraling war
and mania, little flags everywhere
I was living on the periphery as a twenty three old
Wrapped up in doing what I and
it was music and on newsprint
Sleeping in yards without permission and eating all the fruit
From the tree Tarzan or Walt Whitman,
voracious, devouring life, singing my
But that December I was by a pregnancy scare
From who I'd been with for only one night
Many away, who I hadn't planned to keep knowing
A young and embarrassing animal night
The terror of the of fatherhood
at three destroyed my foundation
And left me freaked out and around
Mourning the independence and solitude defined me then
Though my life is a galaxy of
My complex intentions and aspirations do not at all
In the face of the crushing flow of time
I saw my ancestors as sad and
In the same way that my descendants will squint back a fog
Trying to see some polluted version of all I to be in life
Their recollections by the accidents of time
What got thrown away and what gets talked at night
But she had her eventually
and I went back to twenty three

Eleven later I was traveling alone again
On an airplane from New Zealand to Perth, Australia
Very alone, so far from you and the home that we had made
I watched a movie on the plane Jack Kerouac
A documentary going deeper than the usual
They his daughter,
Jan Kerouac, and she tore through the
She told about this deadbeat drinking, watching Three on TV
Not his paternity, abandoning the child
Taking cowardly refuge in his
When she spoke I heard your voice telling me about the who had
Abandoned you as a sweet kid and you to grow precariously
And when she spoke I looked in her face and saw you looking at me
On a tiny airplane screen at the bottom of the world
I saw a resemblance
And I heard echoing
A lineage of bad and strong daughters withstanding
She had hair and freckles and pale skin just like you
And she told the hard truth and the gods just like you
I saw the cracks in the of posterity
I you so I went home

The second body I ever saw was you, Geneviève
When I watched you turn from alive to dead right here in our
I looked the room and asked "Are you here?"
And you weren't, and you are not here. I sing to you
I keep you breathing my lungs
In a constant uncomfortable stream of trailing out
I am dead too
And then eventually all the people who me will also die
Containing what it was like to stand in the same air me
And and wonder why

And then
And then the silence of
The Palace
The ocean
But in my right now
Light