Monday, April 30, 2007

Reposted from "Precipii"

Riding the Concrete Iceway

On a beast of steel
I ride. I ride.
On her cold, black back
I'm tried, (I'm tried).

Stetched out there before me,
lay the long, white line
I ride her bumpity bump
I ride, I ride.

My thougths turn to tragedy,
How easy it would be.
How easy, how easy.
One drunk, crossed line, and I'm greasy.

So I throttle on down,
slip another gear
and I ride. I ride.
Think about a tall black beer.

How the meds make me thirst,
how the pain subsides.
I ride. I ride.
Pain's all gone, soul's all that's tried.

Whippin' traffic,
in and out.
How fried, how fried.
Girl on a cell phone, talkin' to the sky.

LIke great, white sands
or a white, icey Tundra,
she lays there before me
on her slick surface, ain't no umbra.

So with taita, ta, taita, taita, ta taita
I ride
And the highway hums
And soft, leather hide beneath me, she glides.

She glides.


Xavier Martel said...

If I were the author, I might not have used the word "umbra". I do like the repetition of "I ride, I ride" - it puts the poem into a nice meter. This could very well be an inspiring lyric for Inverness.

Standifer Evasto Visum said...

hmmm...I don't know...I struggled with "umbra" and it actually nagged me...but I like the way it flows off the tongue...somehow, it reminds me of Georgia O'Keefe.

God love those Irish (and I wanted a nasty shadow across the iceway).

But the point is well-taken.

Maybe we should contact Angus and let him know - on second thought - those boys can write their own lyrics with no help from serious authors.

Miguel Cuthbert said...

I don't know the difference between umbra and umbro but I liked this one anyway. IMHO probably your best yet!