written in transit (a jack’s mannequin tribute)

I.
plane to l.a.
testing the in-flight radio, seeing what’s playing on the frequency
the butterflies have left my stomach and now i’m feelin’ alright
the sky is shades of blue
everything from what to midnight- what a poetic spectical

and everything reminds me of jack’s
‘cause a part of me thinks i’ll wish to stay stuck
the other knows i’ve been stuck for a while now
these flights don’t connect through Arizona but it makes no difference
i’m passing over lands i’ve never been and maybe i never will

we are pulling apart clouds and speeding through turbulence
we never said travel was graceful
and aa never promised a meal or a morsel
so my stomach is cursing me for the assumption
tried to lose myself in a book but it made me feel weak
watched a movie but it made me miss falling in love
tried to sleep but it only made me tired
…and i, i am finally waking up
from my loneliness and induced coma
realizing i don’t need a kiss to feel complete
to feel apart of something
to feel love- no matter how fake
i think i left my heart in hawai’i
and now i’m on my way back
i wonder if i’ll leave some more, or if i’ll take some home this time
but i know for the next two week i’ll feel at peace
i’ll reconnect my heart, my head

and i want to the pilot for wishing us off a happy pride
i just wish i had some
…well i’m ready, i’m ready to drop
…oh i’m ready, i’m ready so don’t stop…
…keep pushing… i’m ready so don’t call
no don’t call
not even the friends who have helped me pull through before
this time it’s al on me

II.
sometimes when i’m on the ground
looking up at the sky
i’ll try to predict the destination of a plane
i think of one of it’s passengers and why they are leaving (or going back)
it’s all based on a feeling
but i wonder if i’m ever right

but for now i’m the one sitting on the wing
questioning if it will ever have
…a chance too something more than just metal
wonder if there will ever bee traffic lights in the sky
if we’ll ever be able to fly without metal wings

i think we’re mover the canyon now
grand in all it’s glory
red from all it’s countless years getting attention from the sun
they’ve built roads through the rock and paths through the mountains
just to have a way to get by
…you can breathe, you can breathe now
…you can breathe but the air is running out
…you can breathe, you can breathe now
…you can breathe but the air is running out on you

funny how all the reds, all the blues, all the lyrics
keep reminding me of you

and the lands looks like a human heart,
dark red in the shape of a fist
…maybe we were made for each other
with real-estate on the out skirts
like things we love to remember
…you can breathe now
and a dark circle in the center for everything we want to forget
…you can breathe now
but never can
…the air
but never can
…is running out
but never
…on you
can.

III.
i hope you’ll find me in the static of your radio
when you miss me and my car
find me in the spaces of your keyboard
when your aching for my words
find me in your memories
when you want a little piece of me
find me in the smile of a stranger
when it’s my laugh you long to hear
…it’s good to be alive.