Strange Currencies: A Podcast For Songwriters

Sunday Planes Sunday planes Flying low Through your hair Soft and slow We are alive Let’s take a ride Absurdity Sing to me There’s still an ambulance Waiting for me Beyond another Dreamt summer And should we part Without a goodbye Know you were more than enough For a reason why My faithful skeptic For the rest of it I’ll find the sweetness between Optimism and delirium In an empire on its knees No longer high on helium Without an identity Beyond the taught and bought Upon the cereal stained textbook page Describing the battles we fought Sunday brain Power-saving mode I’ve stopped seeing birds Flying alone In the blue Queens sky Of our collective mind Ghosts in the street Serenade me I’m only writing prayers No more prophecy Of the mercurial light Only redefined night Ambitions fade Seasons leave The flowers grow again Before the dirt can grieve In a clearing by the sea Where you once held me I’ll lean on the abstract read Of my most contradictory components I have