from the window of a train
desolation and urban decay
pass in crumbling waves
i'm staring emptily
the people staring back
their faces always look the same
though the towns and seasons change
their empty gaze is unfazed
by my calls
their names are all i know
i lose the rest
under my breath, lost in the city, in my head
i dream of wilderness
but in the wild, long for the city's filth
rusting trains, a crumbling bridge
an empty road with the engine revved
beside a freeway overpass
lies a huntress with my scent
lying quietly in the weeds
until the grass bears her shape permanently
i hear her calls
my name is all she knows
on the road
i can feel her breathing down my neck
or is it the wind across my face?
i close my eyes, let my mind fade
spent years sprawled across her chest
took her heart apart, skinned herself alive
julia wore her mind like a fur coat
in the corners of her chest
i'd carve a cave to build my nest
suck the marrow from her bones
stamp my name across her hands
julia condensed her dark thoughts into poems:
i've been dreaming of her chest
eat her heart, cherish the rest
pour a glass, toast her health
"to julia"
from the window of a train
i watch the city limits fade
let one more summer pass
place a winter in its stead
i dig my hands into my coat
shield my face from the wind and snow
let nature hide my tracks
keep my back to the frozen road
on a dark mountainside
find a cave and build my home
look down on the city lights
build a fire and waste the night
on a dark mountainside
send my smoke into the sky
let her name cross my lips
close my eyes, remember her kiss
on a dark mountainside
let the wind carry my cries
let the smoke signal my needs
send all my dreams to sleep
but i still hear her calls
she can't hear my response: "julia"
under my breath, lost in the city, in my head
A compilation of Nathan Williams' oddball, sample-led brainstorms. A sonic romp through doo-wop, folk, Cambodian pop and psychedelia. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 11, 2017