Freelance Whales

We getup early just to start cranking the generator Our limbs have been asleep we need to get the blood back in 'em We're finding every day several ways that we could be friends We keep on churning and the lights inside the house turned on And in our

Do me this solid If you would pretty lady Please grab me a martini And meet me on the balcony I've prepared a light show You could fake a melody We could argue over where and when the cymbal hits should be Hannah takes the stairs And I usually take t

October's got those orange eyes But somehow I still lost sight When you lifted the lid off of my pumpkin head And kissed me goodnight Should it be a thorn in my side We never quite broke that horse She slept in the cul-de-sac rye Seven miles from my

[ti:We Could Be Friends] [ar:Kareem Salama] [al:City of Lights] [00:00.00]Kareem Salama - We Could Be Friends [00:17.44]When I was young I had a friend named Kyle [00:19.93]And we fight everyday and I didn't know why [00:22.84]I thought I knew him an

send me to the docks where we met the disappointed bridge that haunts the egrets slip under the floorboards (my love) with all his crooked fingers waving at us take me to the wave where I came flush into the world with blue skin choking little bits o

And I could never tell as a kid What that window door went to Only told to stay away I almost had an accident at age 6 When I found the key in the attic And now the smell of these wood frames Is the only sense I've left So as you pull me from the bed

Lucia I am hovering over river bends I'm chiseling out a mountain ridge with my breath and I tried to play with negative space like you showed me to with your catapult flinging quanta out toward the ages look at us we're a bloody mess and we're lovin

I am starting to sense your location You are somewhere in the attic Looking something close to tragic Knitting t-shirts and your mattress I'm floating on the stairwell With my toes grazing the cedar Thinking softly what a tinder box we live in... And

Shut me up with your long tubesocks They don't scream, "Hey, let's just be friends" Look at both my inkwells brimming I was much less understanding then How many stars you think you possess How many in your butterfly net Build me a star in your

We beg rebirth to take us up Parade our souls out by the back gate Some claw the ground Some cut the air Some warm the seas But what will you be and when? And I swim through dirt To find you out And a wail without his family history is And I used to