It’s cool when books can help you imagine different ways to define big-seeming words like “Family.” This song is (to some extent) about Tom Spanbauer’s "The Man Who Fell in Love with the Moon" and "In the City of Shy Hunters," and Carson McCullers’ "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter."
The shy and lonely hunter
who stalks across my chest
says “I’m only seeking glory,” yeah,
but glory never gives you any
rest: me to your body in an arm chair,
wrest: me to the corner of your bed,
rest: we in the place we share our tenderness,
it’s there I’ll rest my head another night,
lights at the end of the hallway
will lead you to the back of some bar
where cloudy headed, late for bed,
you wonder where those fleeting families
are: you, living somewhere on the west coast
are: you, just a figment of my mind
aren’t you the one who always told me
“boy, it’s easier with time” to be the
saddest sound in a lullaby
speck of sand in your daddy’s eye
broke my heart to so much as try
to live the life that lay before me
so you step tender when you don’t run
so you surrender to everyone
so you remember the place you’ve come to
don’t forget the world adores you, said
“I am but my body: heart and shaking skin.”
How ever will you find a safe place where
(you never let anyone into the space where) you
keep all your timid questions, like
“can I kiss you one more time before I go?”
though I know the world is full of hopeless suggestions
it’s us who get caught in the undertow, don’t you know
we were born on a moving train,
we took form in the pouring rain,
we try hard, but come short of explaining
that lives are for living and hearts are for changing.
Forget, an instant, to stay the same!
Not us nor mountains go as they came!
All the things we’ll refuse to be framed in
From what we’ve been given to what’s rearranging.