First Derivative

Scanner beeps and we shuffle in A thousand shirts in black Concert hall that smells like beer And nobody's looking back Then a flash of red turns all the way 'round Cuts right through the stream Her eyes lock on and she's heading this way Like she walked out of a dream Now the whole world's fading into gray All the noise just falls away Twenty seconds... nineteen... eighteen... She's coming my way She's going against the grain Swimming upstream through the crowd Everybody's moving one way But she's turned around Out of all these thousand faces Somehow she knows my name And she's coming for me Against the grain I can see it all from here Our first place, one lamp burning low Coffee in the rain on Sunday Nowhere else we need to go A ring I can't afford yet A promise I can keep Her head against my shoulder On the long drive home asleep Ten seconds... and the gray gets deep Her red is all I see The band can play the show without me My whole life's walking toward me She's going against the grain Swimming upstream through the crowd Everybody's moving one way But she's turned around Out of all these thousand faces Somehow she knows my name And she's coming for me Against the grain Grandkids on the porch swing Her hair gone silver-white Still dancing in the kitchen To the song they played tonight Fifty years of Sunday mornings Every one of them brand new And I'll tell 'em how their grandma Turned around and came right through Three steps The whole crowd disappears Two I can hear my heartbeat One... She looks straight into my eyes And maybe... Maybe... Maybe Maybe

The demo's almost finished, just the bridge The drummer found a tempo he can keep The guy who runs the venue on the strip Said maybe we could open — nothing cheap I told her over breakfast, hold your breath The phone could ring on Monday, I can feel it She poured the coffee, handed me the cream And smiled the way you smile at someone's dream Maybe by Monday the stars will align Maybe by Monday I'll get us more time The ring is in the dresser, the lease is on the shelf Maybe by Monday I'll be someone else Her sister married someone with a desk Her roommate from college bought a yard She tells her mother everything is fine He's working on it — working all the time The calendar is full of circled days That came and went like opening night reviews I keep rehearsing for a curtain call On stages that keep changing all the rules Maybe by Monday the stars will align Maybe by Monday I'll get us more time The ring is in the dresser, the lease is on the shelf Maybe by Monday I'll be someone else She doesn't ask about the gig no more She used to sit in front and sing along She used to tape the setlist to the fridge Four years of Mondays and she's not that strong I'm not a liar — I believe it too The break is coming, I can taste the stage But the ring is getting dusty in the drawer And her patience reads like the last page I saw her looking at apartments — one Bedroom, south side, closer to her work She left the listing folded by the sink The way you leave a letter you can't word The band played Tuesday to eleven people Wednesday I came home and played her something new She sat and listened with her coat still on And said it's beautiful — the way things used to do Maybe by Monday the stars will align Maybe by Monday we won't be out of time The ring is in the dresser, the lease is on the shelf Maybe by Monday Maybe by Monday Maybe by Monday The phone is gonna ring

He polished every link before the ride He memorized the tower and the thorns He crossed the bridge they said would never hold And wore the rain like something to adorn The dragon wasn't real but the fire was The gate was locked but he had learned the trade He broke the hinges singing to himself A song about the debt that he was owed But she was already standing when he came Already dressed, already knew her name The tower was a room she could have left The door was never locked — just closed, not kept He laid the sword across her table's edge He showed the scars like medals on a shelf He told the story twice to make it land The version where she'd crumble in his arms She thanked him like you'd thank a passing stranger Who holds the door you would have caught yourself She poured him water, offered him a chair And waited for the hero to leave She was already standing when he came Already dressed, already knew her name The tower was a room she could have left The door was never locked — just closed, not kept He built a throne for two inside his mind A kingdom out of what he'd sacrificed The crown was his, the debt was hers to pay She set the water down And walked away No ledger and no ceremony owed No villain and no victory to claim Just a man in someone else's hallway Holding a sword she'd never asked him to raise The armor's hanging in a rented room The scars don't tell the story that he planned The bridge he crossed is just a bridge again The tower rents to someone else by dawn He tells it differently in darker bars The version where the kingdom fell apart But the truth is simpler and it cuts much worse She never knew she'd lived inside his heart She was already standing when he came Already dressed, already knew her name The tower was a room she could have left The door was never locked The door was never locked The door was never locked The door was closed And she owes him nothing Not even this song

I drew the curtains back before she woke And set the table long before the light I learned the language underneath her silence I memorized the architecture of her night The doors were open — every one unlocked The hallways lit from end to end in white I left no corner where a shadow fell I gave her everything in plain sight Every map was drawn, every road was named Every window polished, every candle flamed Every shelf was full, every glass was poured She stood in the middle and whispered — more I built the garden she described in passing I hung the paintings where she said they'd go I read the books she left beside the bathtub I learned the songs she used to love below The rooms were warm and catalogued and still The walls had nothing left for her to know She walked through slowly like a visitor Through someone else's house on Sunday's show Every map was drawn, every road was named Every window polished, every candle flamed Every shelf was full, every glass was poured She stood in the middle and whispered — more A bird won't sing inside a gilded room A river doesn't run without a stone The compass spins when north is everywhere She packed her things and said she felt alone I handed her the last key on the ring She set it on the table by the door And said the strangest thing I'd ever heard You gave me everything — I wanted more The house is quiet now and fully lit The garden blooms for no one walking through The paintings hang exactly where she pointed The books are read, the songs are sung on cue I stand in rooms that echo with completion A finished man inside a finished frame The only thing I never gave her was A single door she had to open on her own Every map was drawn, every road was named Every window polished, every candle flamed Every shelf was full, every glass was poured She's gone — and she took nothing but the more The compass spins When north is everywhere

She paints in colors with no name Every one mixed down from flame She hangs her mirrors facing west Where the dying light looks best She sings at midnight, low and strange In a key I can't arrange I stood all night outside her wall Never heard my name at all And every canvas was a door Painted shut since long before The day I asked her what was kept On the side where no one slept The gallery was burning Long before I ever came She keeps the embers turning Every canvas needs a flame The night she lit the rafters I was hanging on the wall The critics, morning after Called it her finest work of all Three a.m., the pen is bleeding Pages turned against the light Every poem wants more feeding Than a man can give at night She sings saints down from the steeple In a voice she stole from grief Trusts the canvas, not the people Says the knife hides in belief Every kindness was a treason She had suffered once before Every spring, a hidden season Winter waiting in the core The gallery was burning Long before I ever came She keeps the embers turning Every canvas needs a flame The night she lit the rafters I was hanging on the wall The critics, morning after Called it her finest work of all Built a harbor in the shallows She saw cannons on the shore Peace to her was just the gallows Waiting quiet by the door So she struck the only ending She could sign without a doubt If a heart is worth defending Burn it down and lock it out The gallery is burning She finally lit the flame I watched my portrait turning Into smoke above the frame She never could have kept me That was never hers at all The critics, in the morning Called it her finest work of all Somewhere she is still singing In a key I never learned And an empty frame is hanging In a gallery that burned

The chair was warm, the glass was still half full A coat was hanging on the back wall like a question The window held the shape of someone's breath The door was swinging slow in one direction I sat down where the air was thin and sweet The table had two places — one still clean I waited for the candle to go out And watched it burn for someone in between The hands go round but never meet The gears are turning underneath One is always just behind Almost the hour, never the time She crossed the bridge the morning I arrived The river underneath still held her reflection The birds were circling patterns she had drawn In bread crumbs scattered without her direction I stood where she had stood and faced the south The wind still carried something from her mouth A word, a name, a season I had missed The current took it down without a sound The hands go round but never meet The gears are turning underneath One is always just behind Almost the hour, never the time I could have learned the language of her hands I could have memorized the roads she walked But every map I followed led to where She'd been the day before — the garden talked In flowers she had planted, now in bloom I knelt beside a color I once knew The bench where pigeons gathered has been moved The bakery is something else entirely The bridge has been repainted twice since then The river doesn't hold a thing politely I passed the place like passing through a scent That rises once and never tells you went The chair belongs to someone else's ghost The candle burned its last for what it meant The hands go round but never meet The gears are turning underneath One was always just behind Almost the hour, never the time Almost the hour The clock is right twice every day But I was never there to see its face

The rocket on the bedroom wall peeled off Somewhere between the algebra and rent The helmet made of cardboard and tinfoil Was in the attic till the attic went He drew the constellations on his ceiling With glow-in-dark that faded within a year The stars gave up before he did But not by much — and not by long, I fear The fluorescent lights don't flicker like the stars The intercom don't echo very far Cleanup on aisle seven, bring the mop The boy who built the rocket Learned to stop The scholarship was close but close don't fly The interview went well but well don't hire The résumé had gaps like missing teeth Each one a year he meant to aim much higher He learned the register, he learned the codes He learned which produce turns on Tuesdays first He wore the vest and smiled at the people And no one ever asked him what he'd rehearsed The fluorescent lights don't flicker like the stars The intercom don't echo very far Cleanup on aisle seven, bring the mop The boy who built the rocket Learned to stop The break room has a window facing east On clear nights you can see Orion's belt He eats his sandwich standing by the glass And doesn't say a word about the way it felt To be the kid who memorized the moon Who knew the distance down to every mile Who plotted courses no one asked to see Who filed them in the cabinet with a smile The district wants the endcaps rearranged The truck comes Thursday, earlier than before His name is on a plaque beside the clock Assistant manager — he won't make more The parking lot is empty after ten He locks the door and walks across the black The sky is wide and full of everything He doesn't look up anymore The fluorescent lights don't flicker like the stars The intercom don't echo very far Cleanup on aisle seven, bring the mop The boy who built the rocket The boy who built the rocket The boy who built the rocket learned to stop Orion's still above the parking lot But parking lots don't look up much

Quarters in a coffee can, Counted twice on the hood of the car at dawn. Ninety-nine cents of a plan, And the gate arm stays down while the cars roll on. I ran for the six-ten bus, Saw the red lights shrink in the rain on the glass. Checks clear on Tuesday, no fuss, Rent was due the Friday that had come and passed. Dollar short, a day too late, Up before the light, early every morning. Dollar short, a day too late, Still the sun gets there first, without a warning. A man outside the station Held out a cap and I filled it with the rest. The hall light burned till Thursday While I held a cold hand and the whole world pressed. Scattered showers, then clearing, Winds from the southwest, ten to fifteen by noon. A slight chance of a reprieve, Then the night closes in and the grind begins. Dollar short, a day too late, Up before the light, early every morning. Dollar short, a day too late, Still the sun gets there first, without a warning.

He can hold a room in silence Longer than a man should try He can find the one word missing And he never has to lie I have watched a hostile table Lean and soften, one by one I just hand him what I've written And I watch what he has done I was nothing in that building Just a desk without a name Then I gave him what he needed And I taught him how to aim Stand him in the light and watch them Every doubter, every friend He can say a thing so plainly That they'll follow to the end I have never met his equal I have never been afraid Let them keep their better angels I will take the man I made He can cut a man in public And the room will laugh along And the man he cut will thank him Just to prove he took it wrong I have seen him take a hammer To a friend of twenty years And explain it in the car ride home Till it all just disappeared I have carried worse than that one I have carried worse than ten And I called the whole thing method And I built him up again Stand him in the light and watch them Every doubter, every friend He can say a thing so plainly That they'll follow to the end I have never met his equal I have never been afraid Let them keep their better angels I will take the man I made Twenty years of other people Twenty years I watched him swing Then one evening he swung at me And I felt the whole damn thing And I'd like to say I left him For the twenty years of men But I sat there in that hallway Doing math on it again I did not discover cruelty I had catalogued it all I just never had to wear it Till he turned it down the hall Stand me in the light and ask me Ask me why I never ran You were sitting in that same room You were laughing at the man You have never met his equal You have never been afraid I got paid for what I gave him Now you tell me why you stayed I'm the one who wrote him You're the one who stayed Don't go asking who he is He's the man we made

He told me everything beneath the kitchen light The year his father died, the quiet nights I knew the shape of every room inside his house I knew her laugh before I knew her name There's a coat across a chair that isn't mine There's a field we used to drive to, past the line I take the long road now, I take the long way home I don't know who I am on that old road And there's a car in the drive he knew too well Somebody visiting, somebody lied I can't tell anymore which one is true I can't tell anymore which one is true I got good at it. That's the part I can't forgive. I got good at the phone calls, good at the face. I knew the questions he would ask on poker nights And I had the answers ready just in case And there's a car in the drive he knew too well Somebody visiting, somebody knew I can't tell anymore which one is true I can't tell anyone they won't approve. Judas at the long table Breaking bread like he still belonged And the friend who loved him And the friend who loved him And the rope in the field outside of town I watch my hands now like they should be someone else's But they're not. They're mine. That's the worst of it. I rehearse a sentence I will never say To a man who has already looked away And there's a car in the drive he knew too well Somebody visiting. Somebody lied. I can't tell anymore which one is true I can't say how my self loathing grew

Gary fell before we learned his name Marcus caught the blast, the fuel, the flame they took his soul, they took his wife they took his child, they took his life We walked right back into that trap Same damn door for the third damn time Caught in a trap, they knew we'd come But we're too damn stubborn, too damn dumb I went negative on the hit points Roadside bomb tore me limb from limb Healing up on ale and anger Tell me when did that stop working I didn't hear no bell Knock me down I'm getting up I didn't hear no bell Break my arm I'll use the other one Drag me through the fire and the sand Curse my name and steal my friends I didn't hear no bell So ring it again Cleared the rooms they said were clean Walked the roads they said were safe Carried out what used to be The strongest man I'd ever faced Now a folded flag sits on a shelf Dog tags hanging from the frame They took my brother to a place I can't go But I'm going back again Twenty men rolled out, nine made it home Nine lives left between them all We lost count of ours a long time back But we answer every call I didn't hear no bell Knock me down I'm getting up I didn't hear no bell Break my arm I'll use the other one Drag me through the fire and the sand Curse my name and kill my friends I didn't hear no bell So ring it again They say be fully prepared to die If you travel at our side We smiled — too damn stubborn, too damn dumb We've done it so many times before I didn't hear no bell Knock me down I'm getting up I didn't hear no bell Break my arm I'll use the other one Drag me through the fire and the sand Curse my name and steal my friend I didn't hear no bell I didn't hear no bell I didn't hear no bell So ring it again

We buried two brothers in the dust and the dark Doc and Tran fell but they left us a spark Nine lives ain't enough when the shadows run deep But we made a promise that we're gonna keep Rangers up front and the snipers locked in Fighters got steel and a hellfire grin the guys are prayin' but their knuckles are white We don't need permission to bring the fight We're coming for you Yeah we're coming for you Through the wire and the fire and the sandstorm black We're coming for you And we ain't coming back Till it's done Old cleric in a cage thinks he's pulling the strings but the watcher don't know what the morning brings Had a puppet out front but we cut every thread Now we're climbing the ladder to the roof overhead drink on our lips and the pains fall away Jaded bastards down and there's hell to pay Guard at the gate ain't seen nothing yet We're the debt that the darkness can't forget We're coming for you Yeah we're coming for you Through the wire and the fire and the sandstorm black We're coming for you And we ain't coming back Till it's done 3rd Brigade sent twenty Only nine made it through They held the line Now we're finishing what they started too We're coming for you Yeah we're coming for you Through the wire and the fire and the sandstorm black We're coming for you And we ain't coming back Till it's done Coming for you Yeah we're coming for you Coming for you Yeah we're coming for you better watch out Yeah we're coming for you

Is there weather coming? Is there something in the air? I've been watching the same sky for longer than I know I stopped asking a while back I stopped waiting for the rainbow Is there anybody coming up that road? Is there any reason I should leave the porch tonight? I used to know the answers I used to know the questions, too And I'm afraid Of the weather coming in I'm afraid Of the thing I prayed for I've been dry so long I don't know how to stand in rain I don't know how to stand in rain Mother, is this the answer? Is this the thing I asked for when I couldn't ask anymore? The dust is coming up to meet the water I don't know which one I am Will you tell me when it's over? Will you tell me when I'm through? I have been standing on this porch so long I don't remember how the world turns into something new There is rain on the roof. There is rain on the roof. There is rain on the roof tonight. I don't know who I'll be tomorrow But there is rain on the roof tonight And I'm afraid Of the weather I'm not afraid Of the weather I've been dry so long I don't know how to stand in rain I don't know how to stand in rain

Read the glass at half past four Crystals falling, weather turning Drove the stakes along the shore Set the lamps and left them burning I was built to read the sky That's a trade a man keeps earning And the mercury keeps dropping And I've got the numbers down There's a season coming for me I'll hold the ground I keep the weather outside Steel behind the stone Let it fall in gray tide Built it on my own And the still water is level Every line of it is true The glass will tell me early And I'll know just what to do Sandbags stacked along the wall Every seam of it is holding Let the whole horizon fall I have seen this weather coming And the flood that took the lowlands Broke against the line I drew What a man builds in the dry days Is the only thing that's true I keep the weather outside Steel behind the stone Let it fall in gray tide Built it on my own And the still water is level Every line of it is true The glass will tell me early And I'll know just what to do Still water runs to level, not to fear Still water holds the sky Every cloud I ever measured I watched it pass me by And when the pressure rises And the crystals start to climb I won't wait for it to find me I will meet it every time Let it break against the doorframe Let the thunder take the blood I have marked the gray tide I stood ahead of the flood And the still water is level And the line I drew is plain The glass has never failed me And I've never feared the rain

Sealed in glass, the water waits Crystal needles slowly turning Pressure falling past the gates Something in the dark is learning I was built to read the sky Never made to feel it burning But the mercury keeps dropping And the needle's spinning round There's a season in me forming Without a sound There's weather on the inside Thunder in the blood Forty days of gray tide Forty nights of flood And the still water remembers Every storm it's ever known The glass can only measure What the sky has always shown Sunlight is a rumor here Filtered through the years of raining Every cloud I've held too near Left its silver slowly staining But the flood that filled the lowlands Carved the canyon out of stone What the storm takes in its passing Leaves a deeper bed below There's weather on the inside Thunder in the blood Forty days of gray tide Forty nights of flood And the still water remembers Every storm it's ever known The glass can only measure What the sky has always shown Still water runs to depth, not silence Still water holds the sky Every cloud that ever crossed me Sleeps somewhere down inside And when the pressure rises And the crystals start to climb I won't pray for clear horizons I have weathered every kind Let the weather find the inside Let the thunder take the blood I have stood through gray tide I have risen with the flood And the still water remembers But it doesn't hold the pain The glass was never broken It was only reading rain

A thought not mine came right in it sat at the table before I could begin Static cut before I spoke and the signal broke through before I ever woke confirmation of presence already there before I found the evidence Coffee sat between our hands it broke the quiet long before I tried to stand He froze, hands around his cup he'd known it all along before I brought it up Night before, he told a friend one thought had reached them both before the night could end A thought not mine came right in it sat at the table before I could begin Static cut before I spoke and the signal broke through before I ever woke confirmation of presence already there before I found the evidence My hand closed into a fist something broke just before I felt it in my wrist A light woke inside my palm I found the far shoulder before I could stay calm Static gave way to a song it knew my story before I could sing along A thought not mine came right in it sat at the table before I could begin Static cut before I spoke and the signal broke through before I ever woke this is proof of presence now and somehow it already knew exactly how Hands I never saw before were already open before I found the door I came into the same room and found the power of presence starting to loom A thought not mine came right in it sat at the table before I could begin Static cut before I spoke and the signal broke through before I ever woke Nothing here was ever new it was faithfully present long before I knew (echoes the intro's motif, no lyric)

You can come just as you are, but I've wandered way too long and gone too far, There's a table set for you, but I'll come around to it when I am through, Leave the door the way it swings, but I've got my own two hands and other things, Why wait out there in the cold, I have loved you since before the world was old, I will stand here while you choose, but the waiting is the only thing you lose. I have counted every tear, but I never see the proof when you appear, I have saved the better wine, but I'm doing fine alone and I've got time, You don't have to clean a thing, but I'd want to be deserving of the ring, Why wait out there in the cold, I have loved you since before the world was old, I will stand here while you choose, but the waiting is the only thing you lose. I have never once let go, I have walked behind you down each road you know, There's still water where I stand, and I'll lead you through the valley by the hand, I left ninety-nine to roam, and I crossed the dark to carry just one home. Why wait out there in the cold, I have loved you since before the world was old, I will stand here while you choose, but the waiting is the only thing you lose. Now I'm reaching for the latch, and there's nothing left to bolt or bar or catch, Why wait out there in the cold— I have loved you since before the world was old.

I found the fire burning when I came Somebody lit it long before my time The smoke was rising from a hill I'd never seen But the warmth was mine to stand beside I didn't know the faces in the ring I didn't know the songs they'd learned to sing But when they made a space and waved me in I knew I'd found the place I should begin Shoulder to the wind, shoulder to the wind We keep the fire burning, we don't let it end I'll carry what was carried once for me Shoulder to the wind, my friend The table wasn't built by any one A hundred hands had shaped it through the years It's scratched and worn and leaning to the left But it holds everything — the bread, the tears Nobody saved a seat, nobody had to You just sit down wherever there And someone tears the bread and passes it along That's how you learn that people really care Shoulder to the wind, shoulder to the wind We keep the fire burning, we don't let it end I'll carry what was carried once for me Shoulder to the wind, my friend I didn't build this road I didn't light this flame I didn't set this table I can't recall every name But I showed up And someone passed the bread And the wind kept blowing And we bowed our heads The storm has never stopped, it never will The road won't ever straighten out for long The fire needs the tending every night And when the table breaks, we build it strong So here's to every hand that kept the flame And every back that faced the bitter cold The circle opens — there's a place for you Come in and sit — you're welcome, you've been told Shoulder to the wind, shoulder to the wind We keep the fire burning, we don't let it end I'll carry what was carried once for me Shoulder to the wind, my friend Shoulder to the wind, shoulder to the wind We keep the fire burning, we don't let it end I'll carry what was carried once for me Shoulder to the wind, my friend Shoulder to the wind Shoulder to the wind Shoulder to the wind

Grey suit stepping over a man on the ground Doesn't break his stride, doesn't look down Behind him a kid in cutoff shorts Eating a sandwich like nothing's wrong Three whole lives in the length of a block Same sidewalk, same second, same clock Found myself walking through Brooklyn one day Black hats and curls, a family at play Kids climbing Daddy like he's a tree He laughs, he lifts them, he sets them free Then he walks off on some errand, alone Passes a stranger — and nods, like he's known Every soul that I pass has a world of its own Joy and its sorrow, a life fully grown A million around me, and I'm walking blind Each one an epic I'll never find And I wonder what grandeur must look like above Where every last one of them's held in His love Add them together, however it's told — That's how it becomes His story Driver from Nepal, three years out west Now here in the city, giving his best Wife and a child back home in the hills He hasn't seen them in — he doesn't say still Just drives through the night with the radio low Carrying more than I'll ever know Every soul that I pass has a world of its own Joy and its sorrow, a life fully grown A million around me, and I'm walking blind Each one an epic I'll never find And I wonder what grandeur must look like above Where every last one of them's held in His love Add them together, however it's told — That's how it becomes His story Zoom out far enough, the city's just light Ten million windows lit up in the night Every single one an entire arc Only one set of eyes sees it all in the dark Every soul that I pass has a world of its own Joy and its sorrow, a life fully grown A million around me, and I'm walking blind Each one an epic I'll never find And that's the grandeur, that's what it's for Every stranger's a page, every sidewalk a door Add them together, however it's told — That's how it becomes His story His story... His story...

Up before the light, he warms her breakfast slow so it's soft enough, walks her down the road the speed she wants to go, and he doesn't rush. Talks to her the whole way, and she don't talk back. That's all right by him. Carries her up all the stairs she used to climb two steps at a time. And he says life is hard because life is hard, and he means it kind. Gives her the good blanket, and he keeps the thin one for him, unlined. Eats his supper standing where the faucet drips, glues his boot again. No one's asked about his day since God knows when, and he don't pretend. Lies awake to listen if she's breathing right, counts it in the dark, leaves the hallway light on so she finds her way. She can't hear him park. And he says life is hard because life is hard, and he means it kind. Gives her the good blanket, and he keeps the thin one for him, unlined. Some nights he would give it all to be the one someone waits up for, fed before the sun, and brushed, and walked, and warmed, carried through the door. And he says life is hard because life is hard, and he means it kind. Gives her the good blanket, and he keeps the thin one for him, unlined. Sleeping on his boots, her tail is thumping slow. What a dog's life, though.

An airport gate, a winter night A thousand strangers in a line The boarding call, the flicker light A paper cup gone cold in mine My hair has long since turned to gray My hands have learned the weight of years Then somewhere down the concourse way A single color reappears The room goes quiet, just the same The colors drain away to gray Twenty seconds... I know this... I've been here before She's going against the grain Swimming upstream through the crowd Everybody's moving one way But she's turned around Out of all these thousand faces Something in me knows her name And it's coming back to me Against the grain The same man laughing to my left The same drink tipping from a hand The same slow second, same held breath The same red turning where I stand I lived this once when I was young Before the gray, before the years A word still waiting on my tongue A step that never disappears She's going against the grain Swimming upstream through the crowd Everybody's moving one way But she's turned around Out of all these thousand faces Something in me knows her name And it's coming back to me Against the grain I never learned if she was mine I never learned what she'd have said I carried it through all that time A single thread of burning red Three steps The whole world stops again Two It can't be her, she'd be gray like me One... She walks right past, as close as air Toward a boy who's standing there I see it in his face, the same Twenty seconds against the grain Maybe Maybe

An eagle crossed an empty sky today The blue forgot its name before it turned away A serpent traced a line across the stone The rock remembers nothing but the cold A ship cut through the water, miles from shore The ocean closed its mouth and spoke no more Solomon was staring at his hands The king of everything who couldn't understand Carried on for somebody else's sake Through every door you chose to take It doesn't bend and it doesn't break It just keeps rolling long after you're gone Something lands and leaves a wake I've seen the ones who crossed the water clean Their shadows fell on nothing in between They filled the room with ordinary air They raised a glass to no one standing there The harbor lights were burning at the end The dock was empty — nothing left to tend The water smoothed itself like folded sheets A closed mouth on an ordinary street Carried on for somebody else's sake Through every door you chose to take It doesn't bend and it doesn't break It just keeps rolling long after you're gone Something lands and leaves a wake The crowned and hollow men are keeping time Their footsteps echo in a pantomime A clockwork figure bowing to the stage An audience of dust, an empty page But somewhere past the forty-second floor A hand reached out and opened up a door And everything behind it rearranged The corridor remembers who was changed Some currents pull the anchors from the sand Some currents carry voices to the land A thread pulled through a thousand open hands Until the first hand couldn't understand How far the thread had traveled from the spool How warm the water was inside the pool The shipwright and the vessel and the sea Are indistinguishable to me Carried on for somebody else's sake Through every door you chose to take It doesn't bend and it doesn't break It just keeps rolling long after you're gone Something lands and leaves a wake Something lands and leaves a wake The water remembers what the sky forgot The stone remembers what the serpent does not

Let me tell you where I've been before I tell you where I am I was eighteen and I knew it all Packed the car before the sun was up Dad just shook my hand there in the drive he never tried to talk me out of love He said the world's the only teacher that a stubborn kid will ever hear Folded some bills into my palm and let me drive off from here I know exactly who I am I don't need a single hand I'm building this on my own plan I know exactly who I am First semester turned to something looser found a version of myself I liked the taste of Every class I skipped became a secret every stranger felt like proof enough Mama called and I just let it ring told myself I'd phone her back tomorrow Pride kept a real careful count of silence one more week, one more week, one more week away I know exactly who I am I don't need a single hand I'm building this on my own plan I know exactly who I am I slept where the streetlight couldn't reach me counted up my friends and landed on none Every number in my phone had blocked me or belonged to somebody I'd already become I caught my own face in a window downtown didn't know the man staring back Told myself the same old story even as the story fell apart I know exactly who I am I don't need a single hand I'm building this on my own plan I know exactly who I am I practiced it for eighty miles what I'd say, how low I'd learn to bow I'd start with sorry, earn my way back in I never got the chance to finish He was already running down the drive Now I'm older, sitting at this table telling you the only truth I've got The boy who drove off feeling so complete had no idea how empty full could be These are the same words I said the day I left I say them now and they don't mean what they used to not because the words ever changed but because I finally did I know exactly whose I am I need just a single hand I'm building this on His perfect plan I know exactly whose I am Now you know where I've been This is where I am

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