1. |
Souls Are Diamond
02:59
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Souls are diamond & we are made of coal
Souls are diamond & we are born of stone
I wanna burn brighter than the rest
but I don't believe in a standardized test
Celebrities, let's line up against the wall
I'd rather hang out with my friends until last call
Their souls are diamond & they are made of coal
Souls are diamond and we are born of stone
I sit & stare at the television screen
I feel so lost, I can't find my scream
A guy I know auditioned up the street
Got the part of a man I'd never want to meet
But his soul is diamond & he is made of coal
Souls are diamond and we are born of stone
I wanna be good & even better
Than that woman I passed getting off the elevator
But I wanna open up my soul
I wanna give more than I hold
My soul is diamond; I am made of coal
Souls are diamond & we are born of stone
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2. |
Fishin'
03:47
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Could I tell you 'bout the night I got up and went out fishin'?
With my soul divided as if from using long division
The moonlight on the lake was calm and still
My mind emptied out like a bag
Could I tell you 'bout the night I got up & went out fishin'?
With my dog beside me, two soldiers on a mission
He did not bark or yelp, he did not chase his tail
He was calm & quiet as the water
A fisherman's a man who knows the price of silence
He knows the price of salmon when it's in season
A fisherman's a man who knows the name of Jesus
He knows the name of a good mechanic if you need one
Could I tell you 'bout the night I got up & went out fishin'?
With my soul divided as if from using long division
I did not bark or yelp, I did not chase my tail
I was calm & quiet as a buddha
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3. |
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Her boyfriend is an artist she tells me from my bed
but the colors that he mixes don't match the colors in his head
so he paints himself a six-pack and turns on the TV
and he's such a lousy lover and he's got such knobby knees
(all the good times
nothing difficult)
you know your ears stick out she tells me with a kiss
I should not have said that, oh my God I'm such a bitch
but her observations do not bother me, I'm happy with my face
and that boy could paint a masterpiece, I don't need to win a race
I love the girls who have boys that I don't love as much as me
Her underwear is on the floor, the sheets pulled off the bed
Empty bottles line the windowsill next to books I haven't read
and she stretches and she yawns, arches her back just like a cat
I forget my allergies and my arms around her wrap
I love the girls who have boys that I don't love as much as me
You know your teeth are crooked, she is looking in my eyes
I only got one cavity if she got another one she'd die
because it keeps her up at night, the metal in her jaw
she imagines she hears frequencies from a far off distant star
(all the good times
nothing difficult)
A spaceship lands in a corn field somewhere in the Middle West
a runner rounds a corner to find out he's second best
and her boyfriend goes to sleep and I guess he starts to dream
She and I just lay around like in some foreign movie scene
I love the girls who have boys that I don't love as much as me
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4. |
Roll On W. Yr Love
02:35
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5. |
I Will Call You Friend
03:43
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you know that I love you
I hold you when I feel you
I will call you friend
when I wrap my arms around you
your voice it is so warm
it's a stove I'm sitting near
and every word is baking a flower in my ear
all your thoughts are pearl, of ruby and of gold
every rhyme in the world
was in that story that you just told
you know that I love you
I hold you when I feel you
I will call you friend
When I wrap my arms around you
If you were on this train
that crawls beneath the island
and all our thoughts cohesive and louder than the silence
and the ringing of the rails
and the racket of the mileage
i would hold you close
with ears and with a reverence
for your wicked soul, your wit and wooden fences
you know that I love you
I hold you when I feel you
I will call you friend
When I wrap my arms around you
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6. |
Silence
02:59
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7. |
John Booker
01:57
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I'm gonna knock John Booker to the ground
Knocking John Booker down to the low ground
Hello my baby keep a goin' on
Hello my baby keep a running
That ole mule buck kick the saddle off
That ole mule buck kept a runnin'
Well, the President think he gonna beat you
The President think he gonna knock you down
Hello my baby keep a goin' on
Hello my baby keep a runnin'
That ole mule buck kicked the saddle off
Ole mule buck kept a runnin'
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The Good Hand Lexington, Kentucky
Michael Patrick F. Smith is a writer and musician. His book THE GOOD HAND: A Memoir of Work, Brotherhood, and Transformation, is currently available on Viking Press.
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