Drum Machine Boy

I'm so hungry
To write a song
Pull the chords
From bare earth

Sing on
Until my lungs
Like a river dry
Breathe in dust

Raw and red
Lips, lungs lunge
For a simple finish
A bright triumph

Hallelujah!

When kids call your name in marker
Or bright white chalk on thin dust
I would take twenty people in a room
Abandoned schools with dusty pinball
Machines and fans that are half-dead
To set the audience on fire, the brothers
And friends that came even on Sunday
To scream something at them to catch
From a notebook, from a goddamn basement
If I have to make a point, generally
I'm going to yell it like I'm dying
Like I can see that white light riding
And I can see it stopping and staring at me
As the last notes vibrate out of us
But there are no last notes until I'm done
How many times do you get to say "maybe me"
You are only ever really done once
The only thing I have learned so far
Is that I cannot stop yelling
It is the only thing keeping me along