PROJECT:bluebird Lyrics

In the shadow of New York
With these colors enveloped in
Visions of war
On this cinderblock highway
I hold onto the wheel
With both hands as I struggle
To keep it together
To the interstate exit

A sight for the ages:
The road melts like glass
In this fifteen cent cinema
The back of my eyes.
Been running for days
From the plague that escaped
From my head.

Like a bluebird our dear doctor flew
Out the window to kiss the morning sun.
As a newborn babe he lay on the table
As they found the poisons entwined with his blood.

An elegy on this balcony
The seventh story beckoning.
For cool release from the screaming cries
Of the dead. At the sound of my head.

God I'm not ready yet
Though the world shifts like sand.
A blunt force trauma to the back of the head.
Will carry me over, over and out.
I can remember every minutes of my life.

And this timeline flashes like spots on the screen.
Seven stories of freefall to forget everything.


Like a bluebird our dear doctor flew
Out the window to kiss the morning sun.
As a newborn babe he lay on the table
As they found the poisons entwined with his blood.

From the balcony straight to the sidewalk split open
Like a book of well-drawn lies.
He found quiet in the warm embrace of the pavement
As it rushed to meet his mind through his eyes.

Like a stage devoid of presence or sanctity
By the morning these streets will cower empty again.
As sirens like spotlights clean them like the rain.

And again we'll rewrite the stories we're told.
On the airwaves...
In our own time... repeating...
In our own blood
...Forget, forget, forget, forget
Forgetting along the way.