Written and recorded in one day as part of the second Song Diary project, an exercise in holding on and letting go, April 16th (Easter) 2017 to April 15th (Tax Day) 2018.
lyrics
Under a waxing moon in the dead devil grass a sunflower swayed,
and you waved a sparkler in the air and said you had spelled my name.
But I saw something else there at the center of the falling sparks,
while we waited for it to get dark enough for the fireworks to start.
Their battlements of lawn chairs along a dirt path in a field
wishing happy birthday and many more to their dead ideal.
The coat of arms of many colors – ruby, emerald, and gold –
shivering toward heaven. What’s dead never gets old.
I wouldn’t say that I hate America.
I’m just not it’s biggest fan.
But the times I think I’m not fitting in here
are times I probably am
the perfect stranger,
the perfect stranger,
the perfect stranger,
the perfect stranger
in strangerland.
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