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lyrics
Violence never solves anything.
But sometimes to get results,
you just want to punch something.
Dad put a hole in the wall again.
Mom covered it in silence
and moved the piano.
She always finds weird places to hang new paintings.
She's gotten good
at covering ugly
with beautiful.
I don't want to be like him.
I want my violence to accomplish something beautiful.
On purpose with paper.
On paper with purpose.
I want to punch holes into 3 ring binders
instead of being part of this 3 ring circus.
One day, we will make confetti.
And it will sparkle like glitter.
And the pain we drink
will be champagne out of paper cups.
When the only hearts that get cut here
will be paper hearts.
When they're the only things left
to be hung in this house.
This house,
with it's paper thin walls
and it's origami love.
It's so tightly folded in on itself
that it looks like something else.
Here mom, I made you a flower.
Here mom, I made you a crane.
Here mom, I made you a heart.
It doesn't beat.
The last thing this house needs
is more beatings.
Pa said, "People, like paper, when pressed, will fold.
And when the creases cease to be reassuring
it means they're molding you into something more."
and I swore that what we had was art.
Because I don't know if what we had
was ugly or beautiful,
but it stirs something deep inside me.
And that's what we art does right?
So I folded my heart just right.
Instead of hole punching bodies,
I struck out and not the sheets in front of me.
In pen strokes
and broken words
and folded souls
and in the eight and a half years
since I have been trapped
in that origami box.
I have destroyed countless sheets of paper.
I have watched 1000 cranes fly away,
and the only wish that I made
was that the words I put to paper
would be honest.
and beautiful.
and holy.
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021
