Memory Lame

                                             Jim O'Rourke: el hombre conejo.

Parece cruel, pero no lo es. Con mi traje de conejo lo haré todo al revés. Luego me dirás que me hice el sordo y tan solo soy otra tontería más.

Javier Mateos 

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It’s quite a gamble to speak out of place
Those things could kill you but so could your face

What occupies me, pays a low rent
Because fondness makes the heart grow absent

These things I say, may seem kinda cruel
So here’s something from my heart to you
Looking at you, reminds me of looking at the sun
And how the blind are so damn lucky

Those holes on your face could be used better ways
Breathing’s a distraction when you chatter away

These things I say, may seem to be lies
To seem risque, or sensationalize

And too many people can remember your name
Always walking you down memory lame

These things I say, may seem to offend
But not half as much, as I’d like to intend
Listening to you, reminds me of
A motor’s endless drone
And how the deaf are so damn lucky

I’d be happy, if life came to a stall
Then I wouldn’t need my senses at all

These things I say, might seem out of line
But day to day, I’m right every time
Looking at you, reminds me of
Looking at the sun
Too long

You’ll find
That in no time
You’ll be talking to yourself
Along with everybody else
Then you’ll despise
The look in their eyes
It may be difficult to tell
If your looking at yourself
And you look fine
If you don’t mind
That gaping hole that’s on your face
A black hole that’s out of place
And out of time
In a tight bind
To find something smart to say
When a silence comes your way

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