cuadernos tibetanos

 Verse 1 I don’t know if it was midnight or my head on airplane mode, the city threw its bright lights like an old electric ghost. You said, “baby, this will pass,” I thought, “no, it just came back,” there are ghosts wearing your perfume dancing circles in my tracks. Pre-Chorus And even when I doubt my shadow, even when I lose my name, there’s a pulse beneath the static calling me back through the flame. Chorus It’s not what I think, but I exist, even if the world is badly written. It’s not what I feel, but I insist, I’m a beautiful mistake with rhythm. It’s not what I think, but I exist, dancing lost inside the distance. If everything breaks, I’ll still persist: a cynical heart with resistance. Verse 2 I saw my face inside a screen, it looked at me without a soul, like a fake saint in a mirror learning how to lose control. I’ve got faith after midnight, I’ve got fear when morning comes, I’ve got God stuck in my throat and he never answers anyone. Pre-Chorus And even when I doubt ...

  Verse 1 There’s a man on the corner with a newspaper crown, talking to angels as the rain comes down. He says the moon’s got wires and the stars all bleed, and the city’s just a dog with a chain it don’t need. He laughs at the traffic, he cries at the light, says the dead take buses through the middle of the night. Everybody walks by with their eyes on their shoes, but he sees the future in a puddle of blues. Chorus Oh, madman, madman, what do you know? You see the river where the hard streets flow. You see the fire underneath the snow, you see what nobody sees. Verse 2 He had a name once, maybe Joseph or John, maybe he left it where the saints have gone. He had a lover with a cigarette voice, she said, “You can be free, but you don’t get a choice.” Now he writes down sermons on a ten-dollar bill, says God got tired and the devil got still. He points to the window of the old drugstore, says, “There’s a door in the glass, but it ain’t a door.” Chorus Oh, ma...