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Yesterday, I was working in my yard when I saw a possum |
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Swinging in the foothills and he was all beat up and hobbling |
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I got a closer look and his foot was mangled |
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I was woken up earlier by what I thought was the cat tangled |
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But it was him who got it bad from the cat that night |
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Slowly down the hill when he slipped under the fence |
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I brought myself up to check him out; he found the milk under the air conditioner |
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I pointed him out to Caroline, she crouched down and he was shaking and full of fear |
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And when she stood up, I asked, "Baby, why you crying?" |
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She said, "Because he's cute and he's down there and he's dying" |
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I went up to my room and I got a call from Justin |
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He was in San Francisco and Godflesh was playing |
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Caroline drove me halfway there where I met Tony |
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And we drove to the city and we parked out in front of the DNA |
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Justin and us, we had some laughs and we took photographs backstage |
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And our guts were protruding and all of them and we just kept laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing |
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Laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing |
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Laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing |
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Laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing |
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And when Godflesh took the stage, Tony and I, we stood there floored |
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Drum machines hammered and feet [?] |
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For a moment, everybody grew silent |
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While Justin tuned his guitar; like a church, it got so quiet |
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Just for a minute, and then they all soared together |
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Like a car off a cliff, we crashed and burned over and over and again and again |
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They threw hard vicious guttural B-flats |
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[?] like a [?] |
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[?] in the seventh round, maybe more 216, 1983 Godflesh [?] like an early morning [?] |
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Justin runs to the mic like a hungry grey white |
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He was on fire, giving it everything he had and killing it that night! |
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Tearing out his prey and it came to a screeching halt |
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A relentless and beautiful voice, a 70 minute assault |
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And then he bowed down and he set his seven string electric guitar down |
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And screeched to holy hell and they disappeared and off went the crowd |
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Then we had pizza and I came back to my apartment in the city |
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Until 4AM, I watched movies and my ears were ringing |
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And I called Caroline out at the house |
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We talked about the concert, about the possum down in the nook |
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And the ocean air came through my window |
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And the sound of foghorns, and then when I woke |
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Godflesh was down in LA |
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Tony had an open house that day |
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And I looked out at [?], Caroline was on her way back from Lake Town |
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I got a call from Paolo Sorrentino at the office [?] in a week or so |
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Caroline came home that night and we had dinner and watched HBO |
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And I'm grateful for her love and for my friends |
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And to have seen the possum walk its last walk along the island |
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I want to grow old and to walk my last walk |
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Knowing that I, too, gave it everything I got |
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But again it's roadblocks and all obstacles I fought |
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For to live another day is much better than to not |
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And I'd like to die with music in my ears |
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The piano of Maurice Ravel or Godflesh's guttural growls from hell |
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The sound that evokes good memories of being young and able to get around |
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And I'd like Caroline beside me |
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That old possum lost the fight |
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His sad, black eyes; what a thing to see on a glowing Easter Sunday |
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But that rodent was loved and he's still thought of |
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Church bells rang that day |
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I remember hearing them in the afternoon just as we left |
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He had to have heard them too |
