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WHEN YOU WERE A WEREWOLF & I THINK YOU’RE COOL from the collection “1988”
When you were a werewolf, and I loved you like a daughter. I promised to protect you like the moon reflects on water. But sometimes night dives into it, sending ripples on the shore. I know that I should love you, but I can’t anymore. When I was seeking vengeance, you got lost down at the fair and all your dreams became like stone, like snakes became your hair. And without a doubt, I know this drought dries up your pores and I’ll become your desert king, because when I reign it pours
And when they take you down and pull out all your claws and write their names in India Ink across your empty paws and maybe in a hundred years when the nails stick in your door the revenge you seek so badly now, you’ll have then by the score. So when tomorrow morning you’re lying naked in the cold I’ll tell you of the price I’ve paid for letting you grow old. And you’ll look at me with apathy, with youth grown pale and sore and daughter you will leave me, like an apple leaves a core To rot and fester on the ground until there’s just a seed that binds together mothering, invention and the need. But remember when the night is up and the moon becomes your whore: It’s me who cleans the mess you leave, gathers clothes you tore. And when they hand out silver bullets like candy to the kids, I’ll either stand between you, or kiss your fluttering lids. So maybe when you’re wondering, what all of this is for. Please know that I did my best and that only lions roar.
Written by Ryan J. Tressel
RJT: All instruments.
I THINK YOU’RE COOL It’s 1988 and everything is oh-so-great. You’re sitting next to me and then it happens suddenly. And it strikes like a thunderbolt or the ghost of Frank E. Holt. In whose honor we named this school I think you’re cool. Like sand into a pearl I realize that you’re a girl. I don’t know what it is I guess maybe might be bliss. And I know that I’ll be loving you until the walls come crumbling
brick by brick from this school I think you’re cool. It’s 1988, and I’m not going to obsfucate the truth with fancy metaphors, secret code or semaphore or say that love’s a thread unspooled. Because the answer’s clear: it seems that summer’s here. And I see us walking hand-in-hand even though I understand it’s just a trick of light on the pool I think you’re cool.
Written by Ryan J. Tressel
RJT: All instruments
Recorded July 2007.
