from by Boyarin

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I travelled uptown
I met a tired old friend
I took a walk with my mum
I talked with them about people we knew
I was thinking about thinking of you

I’ve always been an alien
In this neighbourhood
There’s something I haven’t understood
The way they speak - the way they silently hope
an endless week-end to die in

Days are sinking in the mud
I haven’t found the keys of the closets
In which they’ve hidden the reason why

You people frighten me
when you take care of your towns
You crowd of peaceful owners
You’re crouching beneath your lime-trees
Your children are playing with your suits

You won’t recall my name
I’m just a tired old son
That came and went without a sound
I let you clean up and brush up and iron your Sundays
I have to leave before the night

Days are sinking in the mud
I didn’t pay attention to the wilderness
That creeps inside your homes

Plastic flowers on your tables
Are going to fade and wither
And something is waiting to surge


from Boyarin, released April 8, 2016



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