am i still dreaming? past tense armies of ghosts haunting places that are familiar but different. embarrasingly political in content, but also, not at all. the soundtrack is that midwest folk-punker, unknown outside of his college-town cafe and bar circuit: i'm gonna go out and fuck up my life tonight. sung with a fierce ambivalence. no siento. the fortunes of the frivolous.
but before you know it here i am again...tossing the couches of the rich into their indoor swimming pools, falling asleep just before sunrise. these pictures of you branded onto my vision even after closing my eyes. i never want to wake up.
it was a truly happy village where no one was over thirty years of age and where no one had died.