Odds Logic Superpowers Religion Lyrics

I'm a thinker and a fisherman

I couldn't listen to Rocket

I can only listen to Rocket when I'm drunk

I just go right back to that December

Freezing cold

Running after class.

Running with my down jacket on

Running with my new sneakers

Running and feeling my nose drip

Running and feeling my lungs hurt

Running and constantly spitting so much skank saliva

Walking into the woods at night

In the blizzard

Writing it into No Headlamp

Feeling lonely but feeling good

Those walks with the low low sun

Squeezing drop and drop of light before it entombs below the mountain

It felt like Sam and I were the last two people on planet Bold

I saw the line of lights

That night when I walked in the graveyard by baseline

And the clouds were low so low and so bright from the lights of 28th Street

And I fought with you on the phone about your outfit

And then my phone died

And I ran down in record speed

Wheezing all the while anyway

And I looked up and all across the sky

From behind me southwest

From past the Third Flatiron

Stretching over my hatted head and over the empty town

Way out north east towards Greeley with its shit air foretelling snow

A line of lights

Lower than airplanes

Probably a hundred or two hundred from horizon to horizon

But moving

Like a rope on a pulley

Like a kite on a laundry line

Like a

Goddamn

Alien

Invasion

Or a carpet bombing

And I couldn't believe my eyes

And I couldn't take any pictures cuz my phone was dead

So I picked up my pace and started sprinting

Legs barely in control

Pumping like oil drills under me and in front of me

As baseline and 14th got steeper

I knew by the time I got back that the last of the flyers

Will have gone past the east edge of the bubble and there without proof would fly my Stories

And so I barged in

Huffing and puffing

Rosy cheeked and runny nosed

Steam off the ice cold slick of my face

Atlantic to the Caribbean of the blissfully opiate heated house and shouted

Into Sam's room

You gotta see this, man!

And he came out

And with hands on hips

In sweatpants and slippers

Beanie beheaded on the middle of the blacktop of the deserted street

Squinting through that towering pulled bow pine at the

Last couple lights way off in the distance

Retreating and dunking below a black and hazy horizon

"Huh...

Weird."

I loved that life so much

It was so good to be lonely

It was so good to be alone

There's something holy about that

A full place made empty

Having something, finally, to yourself

That instant conspiracy with any other refugee

That forced and inescapable independence

That idea that it's yours

That idea that you're there in the shit

When everyone else got out

The knowledge that you will be a veteran

The knowledge that you're alive, truly, and against all

Odds

Logic

Superpowers

Religion