Luyện nghe bài hát Distortion

But I don't in ghosts or anything
I that you are gone and that
I'm some version of you around
untrustworthy old description in my memories
That must be your taking form
Created every by me dreaming you so
Is it my job now to hold whatever's of you for all time?
And to reenact you for our life?

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

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

In 2001
After spent the summer and fall traveling mostly alone around
The country was spiraling into war
and mania, little flags were
I was on the periphery as a twenty three year old
up in doing what I wanted and
it was music and painting on
Sleeping in without asking permission and eating all the fruit
From the tree Tarzan or Walt Whitman,
voracious, devouring life, my song
But that I was shaken by a pregnancy scare
From someone who I'd been for only one night
Many states away, who I planned to keep knowing
A young and over-confident animal night
The of the idea of fatherhood
at twenty destroyed my foundation
And me freaked out and wandering around
Mourning the independence and solitude that defined me
Though my life is a of subtleties
My complex intentions and do not matter at all
In the face of the crushing flow of actual
I saw my as sad and misunderstood
In the same way that my descendants squint back through a fog
Trying to see polluted version of all I meant to be in life
Their recollections pruned by the accidents of
What got thrown and what gets talked about at night
But she had her eventually
and I back to being twenty three

Eleven years later I was traveling again
On an from New Zealand to Perth, Western Australia
Very alone, so far away from you and the that we had made
I watched a movie on the plane about Kerouac
A documentary going deeper than the congratulations
interviewed his daughter,
Jan Kerouac, and she through the history
She told about this deadbeat drinking, watching Stooges on TV
Not acknowledging his paternity, abandoning the
Taking cowardly in his self-mythology
When she spoke I your voice telling me about the adults who had
Abandoned you as a kid and left you to grow precariously
And she spoke I looked in her face and saw you looking back at me
On a airplane seat screen at the bottom of the world
I saw a resemblance
And I suffering echoing
A lineage of bad parents and strong daughters
She had black hair and and pale skin just like you
And she told the hard and slayed the gods just like you
I saw the cracks in the of posterity
I missed you so I went

The dead body I ever saw was you, Geneviève
When I watched you turn alive to dead right here in our house
I around 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 uncomfortable stream of memories trailing out
I am dead too
And then eventually all the who remember me will also die
Containing what it was like to stand in the same air me
And breathe and why

And distortion
And then the of space
The Night
The blurring
But in my right now
Light