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Water to Air - Callie Rowe
1. Resurrection
I stand here in my boots
aimlessly kicking at snowbanks
as the sand-salted snow crumbles away
waiting for a ride
to somewhere
and the in frosty sting of the air
I have no expectaion
no anticipation
just standing in my boots
I'm here and I'm okay
why are we always waiting
for some clue to who we are?
for the sun to shine again,
for the perfect snow?
why is life always pursuit?
is there such thing as satisfaction?
as long as I stand here waiting
I'll never know how far I could go
and the bus is running late
as the snow melts down the gutter
and it's so grey out here I've almost forgotten
the way your eyes
warmed in the firelight
and the way I blushed
when you whispered goodnight
the warmth of home so far
makes believing so hard
that even after this gloom
the sun will glow again
but for now I'll just stand here waiting
in the salty cold and grey
for the bus going to somewhere
to find me here
why is life always pursuit?
is there such thing as satisfaction?
as long as I stand here waiting
I'll always fear hope will disappear
and I do believe in hope
even in this dismal place
I keep living like the waters of the earth
as the snow that melts beneath my boots
is destined to travel on
through the salt and sand
rises purity and
though there may be clouds
I too will be reborn
will be reborn
I begin my journey home
towards the light that conquers fear
and the bus will find an empty stop today
every step I take
brings me closer to somewhere
and in the frosty sting of the air
I have no expectation
just sweet anticipation
these boots were made for walking anyway
why are we always waiting
for some clue to who we are?
for the strength to seize the air,
for the will to grow?
like water turning into air
I have felt my resurrection
as I make my way home I realize I'll never know
how far I could go
til I start walking
til I start walking
2. Too Old
when the memories grow difficult to place
remembering a name, forgetting a face
pass all familiar places, don't stop by
wouldn't want them to see you cry
a child feels old
a child feels old
faded scrap books with the years between each page
they tell you once again how much it hurts to age
its been so long since I skinned a knee, climbed a tree
that I'm wondering, am I still me?
a child feels old
a child feels old
too old for these books
too old for this furniture
I try to stay small and keep what is good
the salvation army gets what's left of my childhood
and I feel old
too old
I've never thought my words would hit empty walls
I never thought I'd need permission to walk these halls
I never, never though home would feel so cold
I guess I never though I would ever feel old
I feel old
too old, too old
too old for these songs
too old for this instrument
I try to sing strong and say something good
all I can do now is trust I've been understood
now that I'm old
I'm too old
3. Purple Hearts
there was a letter that I wrote
sent back home
addressed to a boy named John
they gave him gifts he'd never see
he'd never know
he was the father of my son
there was no war
there was no reason
when he fell, I fell
when he died, I died
and where are the songs the poets sang
not so long ago?
where have all the flowers gone?
the music of our fellow man
silenced, overrun
and still the bombs fall on
and there is no war
there is no reason
when they fall, we fall
when they die, I die
we watch the evening news
to tell us how to feel
we wait and we hope that it's not real
are our prayers of peace all for a better world
or just a hope the things don't change?
oh beautiful for purple mountains,
purple hearts
oh father have we sealed
his amber curls in amber fields
all turned to dust
they're blowing in the wind
there is no us
there is no them
when they fall,we fall
when they die, we die
you die, we die
we die
4. The Left Side of My Brain
who put that there, right where I was stepping
in an oblong square?
I don't like where this is going
help me up
cause I leaned a bit too far to the middle
and don't make me choose
cause descisions exhaust me
what happened to everyone else's imagination?
the sign says one way
but that's not the way I'm taking
and it's easier not to count the ways
when there's so many things to count that might not matter
yeah, it's easier not to count the ways
when there's so many things to count that might not matter
yeah, but if they don't count I'd rather not mind
and if they don't count I'd rather not mind
if they don't count I'd rather not mind
I didn't ask you
so why won't you tell me?
wait in the mailroom
until you're sick of the dead trees
don't do what
I told you cause I meant to control you
and I'm over that
phase of my life now
well the left side of my brain was getting tired
so I called to get the radio rewired
rewired, rewired
if they don't count I'd rather not mind
if they don't count I'd rather not mind
5. This Hollowed Life
you eat
you eat
til you're too full to remember
where the emptiness lies
your breath
echoes shallow
the strain under your skin
can you so easily mistake the pain of feeling nothing?
can you so forget so fast?
give up without a fight?
cause there's nothing left that could fill this silence
in tortured famine, a heart squeezed dry
there's not enough to redeem this hollowed life
watch what's there wither away until there's nothing left
nothing left
scraping
shaping
don't stop until the outside is gone
meanwhile you dig deep from within
and splatter your soul
knees cold on the hard bathroom floor
when was the last time you felt this good?
there's nothing left that could fill this silence
in tortured famine, a heart squeezed dry
there's not enough to redeem this hollowed life
watch what's there wither away until there's nothing left
how does it taste now the void's been opened?
feather light, you drift away...
shadows
dark like bruises
show the sharpness of your smile
and thin heart pulses weakly through
silently screaming to be fed
and when it all goes pale and ends
what's gonna give you breath again?
make that last collect call to whoever's on the other end
there's nothing left that could fill this silence
in tortured famine, a heart squeezed dry
there's not enough to redeem this hollowed life
watch what's there wither away until there's nothing left
6. Waiting Room
waiting room, 4:15 pm
and counting down...
and if there were windows
maybe there'd be sun instead of clouds
the cold flourescence throws
a shadow over newspapers
and phone number guides
that serve to remind
your mistake has been made before
but I told you not to worry
I'll be the one to wring my hands
all the same, I wish you'd hurry
cause the waiting's almost more than I can stand
at 4:30
my mouth's getting dry from the vent
spilling breath, cold and stale
like the air's being strangled to death
easy expectation, difficult decision
weighing forward and back
weighing the cost of consequence
the clothes, the loss
but I told you not to worry
I'll be the one to wring my hands
all the same, I wish you'd hurry
cause the waiting's so much more than I can stand
the people going in are never the same
as the people leaving and
all this time that we've spent ignoring
spent pretending, believing
I told you not to worry
I'll be the one to wring my hands
all the same, I wish you'd hurry
cause the waiting's so much more than I can stand
the parking lot seemed to shrink with your words
and I held you under the streetlight
shed tears for the question of the future
the hardest words you'd ever heard
you'd ever heard
I told you not to worry
I'll be the one to wring my hands
all the same, I wish you'd hurry
7. Paper Crane
pulls the smile right from my
paper thin lips
and glues it on again
a little bit crooked
less than true
a little less convincing, thank you
and where the scars are left
he paints a mirror
to hide my pain
so he can look at what he wants to see
instead of me
if I could be a paper airplane, I
I would let the wind decide and take me
up or down or near or far
but you will not cut my paper wings
he folds me out
folds me in
and he seats me here
a flightless paper crane
in the distance
within our breif embrace
lie the miles and years
of fading strength
relentless weather
and his touch like the brush of a feather
the most furious of turmoil
beneath the stillest waters
that at the slightest move or word
might overflow before my eyes
if I cry
if I could be a paper airplane, I
I would let the wind decide and take me
up or down or near or far
but I am just an oragami
folded out
folded in
and seated here
oh, I'm seated here
I'm seated here, a flightless...
if i could be a paper airplane
I would let the wind decide and take me
up or down or near or far
I am just an oragami
folded out
folded in
and seated here
seated here
yeah, I'm seated here,
a flightless paper crane
...a girl I used to know wrote some amazing songs.