PBS
by tsunami
—1997—
words for once
they just get in the way
and all my logic
it’s a convinient mistake
your hand on your knee
just two feet from me
i sink in my sea
riding the ache
fall down again
can you feel it rush in?
like a cold terrible wind
through the window it blows
that i never quite close
on a night when you chose
to crawl back in
The Postcard
by Boris Grebenshikov
—1989—
This is a postcard
Saying I’m alright in this beautiful city
This is a phone call
Saying, yeah, I am sleeping alone here
The telephone lines are cut
My hands can’t hold the paper
You are on my mind
Nobody knows your name here
Except when the moon is out
And then they toss in their sleep
Crying out for you to take them
But me I cannot sleep
I cannot dream
My heart is shattered
You are on my mind
Once seven colors used to make men blind
And now we are like birds stuck in barbed wire
Precise, like sunrise
A child just like any other
Made of the bones of the earth
Fragile and deathless
Yes, I’m alright
I am a church
And I’m burning down
You are on my mind