I broke into a construction site and climbed the highest crane
I put my arms around its neck and felt its joy and pain.
And I knew then that is like me was made of blood and bones
parkas gloves apartment windows buzzy telephones.
I whispered that I loved it and I heard it ask me why
I only held it closer, said "because you're of existence, and so am I."
See, the very best things about things are the people they remind us of
cause everything is made with hands and hands are made with love.
I keep love wrapped around me like a secondhand blanket
keeps me warm but I rarely stop to thank it
I wanna be the wind between skyscrapers when I grow up.
But they say this displaced affection only makes me more alone
too broke to have adventures and too bored to stay at home.
But if I learn to love no one the whole world's love is mine
shining off the power plants and with me all the time
with corporations at my heels saying "gotta grow up, sunshine."
When you grow up you own the world, oh what a thing to be
reflected in their cataract eyes with a cell phone and a brief case I see me.
Vivian I write you letters from my hometown bed
those songs we used to sing on tour still playing in my head.
When planes go by I imagine its you coming, so we can meet
I'll introduce you to the rusty bulldozers in the field across the street.
And when the winter covers them they look like dinosaurs
filled with pretty wisdom still and only mine and yours.
But if you can't afford a ticket, or in case you miss your flight
all I ask is that you send me pictures of those city lights at night.
Just know that when they bury me
the flesh that was my hands will nourish the soil of a tree.
And the rain will fall down on it even when its small and weak
until it grows up tall and strong like my body could never be.
And I'll finally be beautiful until the loggers cut me down
I'll be made into a spiral notebook and they'll ship me to your town.
And I'll wind up in the spare bedroom at your parents' house
where you still come to write sometimes, is it me you're thinking about?
As proof I'll always hold your thoughts no matter where you are
and the part of my trunk that was my heart will become some kid's guitar
so I can write...
...another mediocre acoustic song
that's really about nothing and the chords are played all wrong.
Between gravestones and water towers where you find where you belong
I hope you find where you belong.