from by CJ Krueger

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a flower in summery sun. your hair is black; the color of night sky and deep winter cold.

i wish you were here to see this: the mountain side erupting in blossoms all purple and gold.

and now i can't help from drifting to sleep on this island we made.

i dream of sunsets, kites in blue sky and a summer parade.

i miss it: the sound of your voice, the rise and fall, the rhythm of it. it's poetry, the smile in your breath.

i could stay alone on the beach, it's black the sand beneath me, its getting caught in my hair.

i wish you would say what you mean, instead of simply wishing for it, i can't work you miracles.

but for a while we're getting along on this island we made.

i watched your face, that grimace you make. i think you're too afraid.

i found your hospital bed. i was surprised to put it lightly. a rosebud, a flower, a cross.

but you came all stinking of light and love and black romantic feelings. i wondered. i thought i was dead.

and now it's all falling apart; the sky gone dark, dissolving. like your face, it's gone from my head.

i don't have answers to your queries of the island we made.

it's gone away, and i don't know where. like a ghost-led parade.


from Island, released January 1, 2009
written, composed and recorded by cj krueger.




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