Guernica

"Here's to the era, fill in the blanks, and to the all of the terror filled lives of the saints"
-Simon Joyner ~ Medicine Blues-

I really don't have too terribly much to say about this song, other than I'm not quite sure it's a song. It's semi-autobiographical, and semi-biographical. The first instinct I think would be to assume that, as the writer, I am the boy in the song, but I'm not. I'm not the girl either. Those of you who know me well could pick out which parts are autobiographical, and if you can't it doesn't really matter anyway.

Guernica

There’s a girl I know
Who catches rain in her hands
Stained black droplets dripping
Mascara running, frightened
And the lines left on her face
Trace maps to places I dare not go
Like feelings left unpainted
She’s got guernica in her eyes
And whispers quake at morning’s break
The basking blue of dawn unfurls
The golden beams of energy
The bird that whistles, the bird that sings

She takes her time
When she lies to me
Says she wants to melt away
Into obscurity

There’s a boy I know
Who tries to get all the girls to look
Like a pigeon on a ledge
He’s fading against a grey sky
And his nightingale songs
They screech and wail like a baby grand
And as the skies they turn hostile
He’s got a lot work to do to survive
And though the spring brought him green unmatched
He’s been lost in his blue mind and brown bottles
And on the streets of Chicago
He confesses that he misses his home

He takes his time
When he tries to replace her
Finding paint of the right tint
To cover scars and blend back in