We Are Lovers of Our Lost Earth

from by Jon Watts

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lyrics

Jon Watts | We Are Lovers of Our Lost Earth | Lyrics

I’m like friendship
because I’ll never go away
I’m like a drop of rain on a cloudy day
and I’m awake
as if I never went to sleep
And now I’m dancing in the street
as if there was no street

Now I’m alone and I’m surrounded
I could try to find myself a home
but houses are too grounded
My living situation here
foundations just been founded
I spend my time considering
consideration’s boundaries

Don’t look at me
(because I’m old)
Don’t say you’ve heard of me
because my story’s not been told
I’m living underground this year
The surface is too cold
It’s a land-side landslide
re-routing these old roads

Inhale exhaust.
Exhale love.

This is about roads in Portugal
and things I’ve left behind me
struggles I’ve climbed to find
peace of mind inside me
When blind luck leads us there
it’s fine
but just look between the lines
at all the lives denied

We deny love
so it’s about hope
and it’s about how everyone has courage
in their throat
It’s about the lies that vie for our attention
leading us to places too tangential to mention
I could give you names
and I could name dates
and I could focus on the means to end all the debates
but this is music
It’s elusive
I’ve produced it exclusively
and it leads to loose conclusions
which destroy illusions usefully

I don’t like running in place
so now I’m walking in the city
Carbon-monoxide in my lungs
I feel empty
We’ve cut down all the trees
so now it’s up to us
We’ve got to inhale exhaust, exhale love

Inhale exhaust.
Exhale love.

Now I’m exhausted
I haven’t done this much coughing
since I was lost in Boston
It’s a softened offspring

We are Lovers of our Lost Earth
And it makes us fighters because we know
how much now we have cost her
Some of us are somber
others find a way that they can speak
while they’re choking
That’s not a path I’ve chose yet
We can each pick up something
and find a way to get a little bit of breath

credits

from The Art of Fully Being, released March 15, 2007
Instruments and Production by Jon Watts
Moroccan drumming by Mohammed and Maama Afrika

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Jon Watts Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Quaker poet-producer-songsmith in West Philly.

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