New song - Matt and Joe's Wedding Song

Hey.

I was gonna post this during the weekend, but youtube gobbled up my video earlier than I thought, and it's already getting viewed, so no time like the present.  Seriously, pass this one on to as many folks as you can.  It's a really sweet song and it's the most realistic, warm, precise version of love I could imagine.  It's the kind of love I see between Matt and Joe.  The kind of love I really wish I could experience. 

I've known Joe since college, and the path which led him to the vibrant, beautiful guy he is today was a long and storied one, and I'm honored to have been there for most of its ups and downs.  The late night phone calls, the loud, frantic giggling over silly inside jokes, the struggle to define himself and how he could serve theatre.  The people he loved who left this earth too soon, the clear and awakening force which led to him coming out in his mid-twenties.  The job we got hired to do unbeknownst to one another which ushered in a delightful and chaotic new group of people. The theatre company he formed with our dear friend Greg.  The determination he took to go back to school and get his teaching credentials. Joe has always impressed me with his nerve, his tenacity, and I love him to pieces.

Monday, Joe and Matt will acquire their marriage license in my new home, New York City.  And I'll be there as a witness.  And I'm so goddamn happy to share that with them.  Come the end of April, I'll fly back to CA and take part in their wedding in Palm Springs.  It's my return to California since my move, and I'm scared as hell to see old friends in the flesh and looking forward to it all the same.

So, here's one of my gifts to Matt and Joe.  I wish you buckets of joy.  I wish you small, quiet smiles as you stare across the breakfast table. I wish you a cool bed, and time enough for love.

Lyrics

I watch you as you're sleeping
Such a gorgeous man
I'm so giddy, I can't bear it
All I've wanted, gone to plan

We'll rebuild this house together
and I'll hold you in my arms
Hear you talk about the weather
make me dizzy with all your charms
you'll laugh at my old jokes
and I'll
make you dinner
a gentle way to share our time

your life
my life
together we'll be married
kiss me
join me
forever rich and varied
breathe me
i'll breathe you too

it's not love
that i'm feeling
so much stronger than a word
it's the fire and the flutter
weaving simple and absurd

We'll rebuild this house together
and I'll hold you in my arms
Hear you talk about the weather
make me dizzy with all your charms
you'll laugh at my old jokes
and I'll
make you dinner
a gentle way to share our time


your life
my life
together we'll be married
kiss me
join me
forever rich and varied
breathe me
i'll breathe you too

Mr. Matthew - part I of the family suite

Hey.

This is the second oldest song I've ever written, with a new ending to it.  It's the first and probably only time my brother's openly liked something I've done. I was back at home for seven months after college, and I can only imagine me being there put on a strain on him.  My sister was at college, and he had just earned a taste of being the only kid at home when my broke, moody ass showed up.  In the course of me staring at the white walls and playing terribly on guitar for hours on end, I wrote this song for him. It's a silly little piece, but I think it sums up our dynamic perfectly,  Thanks, Jeric, for your own kind of love and kinship.

Lyrics:

First Verse

How are you today
Mr Matthew
If you're a little nauseous
Well - I'll come by again
How are you today
Mr Matthew
If you're a little raucous
Well - I'll be meek.

Come by, seek me out
It's a lovely day - I'd like you to play
You'll never guess the greatest news I've got to say

Chorus
Some days I feel
like I 'm floating
I might slip away
I'd love you to come
Fly with me
But you'd rather not play

Second Verse
I am simple
Mr. Matthew
I don't dance with the wicked
I'm a good, good boy
I am simple
Mr. Matthew
Shake loose your demon stare
C'mon and grin for me

Come by, seek me out
It's a lovely day - I'd like you to play
You'll never guess the greatest news I've got to say

CHORUS

Bridge

You'd rather not play, oh
you'd rather not play
you'd rather not play
hey
rather not play
rather not play
rather not play
rather not play

Third Verse

Come inside
Mr. Matthew
If I'm a little cautious
Well, you'll understand
Come inside
Mr. Matthew
You never thought to wear galoshes
And now the rain pours down

C'mon , straight inside
Whle the clouds will fight and rage
we shall hide
the only thing to get wet will be our pride

CHORUS

You'd rather not play
You think we're strangers
Linked only by a mother's touch
Still you're my brother
I love you so
C'mon and share
what you're living
Together we'll play

Faith

After the forty hour mark the key to staying awake past that is constant eye movement change your point of focus constantly otherwise the tessellations in the tiles and on the wallpaper and on the subway wall make you nauseous otherwise youre fine not tired not hungry youve just finished an audition for a national tour of west side story and its boop boop boop assembly line one minute comic monologues for all the wannabe officer krupkes and youre out and you get a text message and youve been essentially dumped via text message and for the second time this month you've made homemade lemon ginger sorbet and she didnt show and its fucking pathetic and youre fucking pathetic and you start to read christopher hitchens to take your mind off the cold hard fact hat youll be eating lemon sorbet by yourself again in the dark like a forgotten beast and it doesnt help because as much as hitchens is prosaic and tons of your fellow agnostics/atheists love to slather on their favorite hitchens quotes his book just frightens you to the core not because of him but because it just reinforces the fact that religion is a virus that will destroy humanity and you dont think it can ever be removed so people can love and enjoy this brackish miserable fleeting time we have without all this additional suffering from those with faith you just cant think of any way to eradicate religion without resorting to the same evil tactics used by other religious cleansers and even then the virus will still mutate and multiply and just as youre about to give up and cry a man enters the subway and sings gospel songs and busks for change another man tugs his copper toupee which sits atop his grey hair on the back of his head and an old dominican man starts to methodically pluck out the hairs on the knuckles of his left hand and he does not flinch and you wish you just wish you could take a pill and be forever cured of the need to love and be loved have that wretched hole plugged up and just make as much stuff as you can until you die and through that factor your own kind of faith a faith that you are not wasting fucking time that you are making songs and stories and characters and poems which arrest people from the staid tiny suffering they bear and open a door in their heart giving them a brief glimpse of self-possibility of feelings long interred by disuse and cynicism because thats all you can do that is all you are going to get in this curling shadow of time