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| kansas is a metaphor:
there's no trust or honesty or love to be found in kansas, anymore
something about your endless fields and clear skies has lost my interest
i'm guessing it's more of the fact that your hometown love has pushed me aside
and i've begun to tell myself you're not worth it; kansas, you've made me a liar
you've been changing in ways i don't adjust to, very well
you're all about busy highways, night clubs, new paint, and people that i don't understand
people who are making you into an uncomfortable place to be, but i think you enjoy this state-makeover
kansas, the thing is, i guess i've loved you for a long time and things are changing at a rapid pace
you were always my slow-it-down place to be, but it's just not that way, anymore
i don't see it making much of a difference if i was among your population, or not
i'm a fool for you, kansas, and i'm sorry
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| this is a good luck wish
for the life youll be starting soon
and a congratulations announcement
concerning the way you are now
this is conformation, on my side, stating that im doing my very best to do my very best
and this is a 'hope all is well' for you
this is my own personal expression of worry towards the way you search for sadness
and how successful youve always been at finding it
this is my expertise input: i dont think thats healthy
this is my last attempt for you to listen, and believe that no one is out to get you
especially me
this is my confession that i don't like a lot of things people are doing, but this is no judgment
this is not an apology or a plea for your presence
this is some sort of valediction
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| we begin on our knees, like those who are praying or begging
soon enough we learn to stand, like those who are dancing or running
it's a progression of the mind as well as the body
but my knees grew weak from the heavy load i had been carrying upon my fragile frame
pushing me back down to where i began years ago
it was no stance of prayer; unable to lift my own legs i left them to catch on the ground
shredding and tearing my skin, digging away at what was once so soft and tender
i was reaching for hands that were not reaching for mine, i now see that was a selfish hope
i realize my so called 'load' is not as heavy as i made it seem
i know a seven year old boy who is carrying more than i ever could
he has yet to regress to crawling
let the things you are abandoning become the things that help you walk on your own
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| i wanna sit in your bed, during the summer time
in teeny-tiny red shorts and a dark yellow tank
i want my hair long and stuck to my face from the sweat
it'll be a hot summer night, no breeze about it; keeps us up and keeps us restless and lacking of sleep
my nails would be shiny and red because you'll say how my little nails are worth the color
i'll bother you until i am pleased with a multitude of colored paper for folding
your floor will be covered with cranes and fortunetellers because thats all i know
i want to tease you:
asking you to come sit with me then pushing you away; showing the true nature of my indecisiveness
finally, giving you a real invitation, i would want you to sit on my right, close to your headboard and your pillows
there will be silence, enough to hear the creases folding
i want the humming of an unstable fan to be in the backdrop
the flowers i stole from the pathway in front will be placed in an emptied peanut butter jar
raise your hands, out of nowhere, asking me to compare mine to yours
but i won't lift a finger, saying how mine are greater in size, all while smiling because we both know i have a thing about being so small
you'll quote movies in a crescendoing whisper, basically saying the end in a belly-laugh because you can
i'll be sure to thank you before i leave, for things you didn't say and just knew
like how i love you
and how you did not feel the need to ask me things that i would have just said "yes" to, just to move on
like if i want to marry you some day
but i would leave because i just gotta go back for now and we would both understand
covering my lips with two fingers i'd walk backwards, blow a silent kiss, then turn towards home
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| i am distracted and dishonest
i am a list maker, i am not a goal fulfiller
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