radiant fracture

I wanna ride the hydraulics
Lit up like the North Star
I wanna wallow in the spoils before the crowd
I wanna play my guitar
Not gonna sit up and beg
Not gonna do tricks
Not gonna stand here on a sound stage
Tethered to a crucifix

The ride's over, I know
But I'm not ready to go

I wanna flash my pastel colors by the rail
On a windy day at Pimlico
Don't want to write songs with this clown they set me up with in a Los Angeles 
rehearsal studio
Not gonna tour with Trent Reznor
Third of three, bottom of the bill
You can't pay me to make that kind of music
Not gonna swallow that pill

The ride's over, I know
But I'm not ready to go

Maybe Dad is right
I'm still young
And I can write C++ just as good as anyone
I know this guy at LucasArts
He says they're looking for hands
In fifteen years I'll be puttin' back beers
With my feet in the sand

The rain fell all night 
And it kept me awake
It was still falling by morning
It was hard to take
And you were sleeping on the floor
Breathing free and even
If I ever want to drive myself insane
All I have to do is watch you breathing
And at 5 AM, I turned the radio on
And an old man's voice sang a short sweet song
And then the static roared again
Hungry for blood
I heard the rain falling from the rain spout
Down, down into the sweet wet mud
And you punched out all the windows
And the wind began to wail
And you gathered your hair behind your head
Like God was gonna catch you by the ponytail
And then the old voice crackled through the static
And I felt young and alive
And the hair stood up on the back of my neck
We were rising from the grave
Yeah yeah

We stank of hair dye and ammonia
We sealed ourselves away from view
You were looking at the void and seldom blinking
The best that I could do
Was to train my eyes on you

We scaled the hidden hills beneath the surface
Scraped our fingers bloody on the stones
And built a little house that we could live in
Out of Dinu Lipatti's bones

We kept our friends at bay all summer long
Treated the days as though they'd kill us if they could
Wringing out the hours like blood-drenched bedsheets
To keep wintertime at bay
But December showed up anyway

There was no money; it was money that you wanted
I went downtown, sold off most of what I owned
And we raised a tower to broadcast all our dark dreams
From Dinu Lipatti's bones