Death
someone get cut down
I see someone dying in the new jungles
I see them fallen
There's a spirit in the air
running through to me
making moves in me
There's an air of freedom
can't you feel it
making use of what it could be/
and made for your leaving of the earth
and the flower the birth again
making another day...
And the flower and all birth
I can see
It's coming again for me.
Now tell of days where they
were jamming in rows
Some woman's husband
was laying in earth filled
with cavalry musket shot
and some General's wet dream of
success...
Your sons and daughters are fallen down
the bullet strikes them to the ground
when all your loving has been removed
I'm only taking what you're trying to make
it when nothing is left/
Into the far starlight
wet leaves of September blowing
into what you might be
Can you see me up there?
Can you see me?
*This one is mystical, one of the first
we recorded in the Blacksburg practice space house
in the Autumn of 1994.
It was a spontaneous flow, inspired by the
poetry I was writing at the time @
-T. Byron K.
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