lights in lima, lights in my mind

but if I got a condo on a cloud

then I guess you could stay at my place

I'mma get one...

Dude called me breakneck crazy 'cause I'm choking on air in spin-town, New Mexico.

And I can't raise my eyes to look around.

The streets fly by, city lights-ugly, crazy mountains and clouds, cumbia blare

blurs to everything, blurs to nothing,

blurs

because I love you.

man said, broke-down crazy: driving through neon desert paradise; "And tell her,"

someone said.

The light-up buzz at dark, dusty festivity, everyone too loving, and "pretty lights,"

someone points.

and I see them, and I don't care.

And she's nowhere:

The wild, frenzied absence of nowhere, dirty nowhere, windy streets, robot-people going nowhere, people staring-off, with no music, no beat: cold boring wind, ugly boring library, long boring papers, bitter boring coffee, nowhere, and the fucking lights...

            gas pedal drops, car leaps out, and some sappy, contrived shit

bumps out the radio, and I'd rather be here than anywhere, except it hurts:

            how can I tell you when all I can say is that giants are fighting above my head, fighting in the bright stars, and rumbling loud across the wide, dry horizon? That the weight of absence is too heavy and too light, a smothering desolation? How can I tell you I'm alone when I'm surrounded? How can I tell you when you don't care?

Love is a stupid thing to write on.

man was like,

crazy.

And I can't raise my eyes.

And I love you.