Rain Sunday, Feb 22 2009 

Rain (reyn), n:

A soft drumming on window-panes. The roar of impending storm and breaking flood. Sparkling diamonds suspended in air, beautiful in fleeting sun. The gray mist around a lamp post; the smear of neon lights on wet pavement. An intimate, warm touch against the skin late at night. The soothing background noise to a comfortable bed; by turns, the fierce rage of close-by thunder and lightning. The tears of God and angels over the dry and chaotic world. A gray day full of wet umbrellas and too-hot rubber coats. Lonely puddles, strangely melancholy in the aftermath of clouds. The gift of life to dark, thirsty soil. The setting for sad goodbyes and star-crossed kisses. A stifling deluge from the sky. The context of a rainbow. The cleansing of creation’s sorrow; the baptism of the world, re-birthed in soft, damp shades of green and brown and gray.

Bystanders Anonymous Sunday, Feb 22 2009 

Best friends talk together, walk together, and brainstorm together. In the case of me and mine, it is also virtually inevitable that we also write together. Hence, these lyrics are a combined effort born from an evening of mutual upset and “I really need to write, but I don’t know where to start”. So, even though he wrote half of them, these lyrics (their existence, anyway, if not their specific content) are dedicated to Dana, because on most days I can’t do things without him any more than my right hand.

Bystanders Anonymous
Who will live your life today?
I’m sick of standing here with you
While you give yourself away

You’re leaning on your constant lies
The lies that blind your sight
Will you ever realize
Your eyes aren’t open to the light?

I’m your bystander
My voice is muted in your head
You walk on by
With your next guy
Living like I’m dead

What ever happened to the trust
We used to stand upon?
My tears are turning me to rust
‘Cuz the you I knew is gone

I’m looking at a hollow shell
Of the girl you used to be
This must be some best friend’s hell
Your apathy is burning me

I’m your bystander
My voice is muted in your head
You walk on by
With your next guy
Living like I’m dead

Please don’t leave me standing here
Because you’re standing next to me
And someday, you’ll wake, I fear
To find you’re fin’ly conscience-free

You’re the bystander
Your voice is muted in your head
You walk on by
With another guy
Living like you’re dead

Come dear friend, regain your sight
So we can leave this endless night
Of being Bystanders Anonymous
Of life.