bared from the uranium club of copenhagen
the chairman of the commission for atomic physics
wrote me saying he had no time for dyslexics
moving along, I fell in with a band of wolves
spreading a flawed brand of nuclear fusion
look at it glow, I would say with smile
this little rod is the loneliest of all spent materials
fraternal twins with duplicate snide comments
shouted me down and called me a fraud
they even published a paper at the universitat of leipzig
I left a discharged tenured professor
heinrich himmler was the head of the ss
he wanted to know about hilbert's theory of integral equations
so I sat him down and we talked over coffee about my future
and I asked him about the death camps and the v-one rockets
after the war I ended up in dayton ohio
teaching teens the basics of atoms
those kids are old now and making amends just as I once did,
and I'm dreaming more and more of the innocence of youthful summers
everything is easy, before you get caught up in it
the simplest pleasures are lost, as we move forward
evil is never in the surroundings of debate or ignorance,
it's found in our curiosity of the mysteries of science
and this is the spot where I sat hollow.
empty after the worst nine months
of the first thirty four years
shipwrecked a thousand miles from water
and this is the road that took me back to sane.
full of pot holes, inquisitions and self loathing
in time the water drained
my feet touching ground
and that was the trek that led me back to who I was.
through the artic madness of chemical imbalance
I probably gave up hope a few times but you never did
even though I gave you every reason to
you had my back
when no else did
I got lucky when you found me
I can't say thank you enough
it's two a.m again.
thoughts are like snowdrifts
and my skidoo is stuck, again
people, places
I'm six , I'm watching my dad hit my mom
I'm sixteen, I'm dropping some acid
I'm twenty eight, my son is being born
I'm thirty three. i'm cheating on my wife
I'm thirty eight, i've hit rock bottom
it's summer
1985
i'm playing midfield
i make a through ball
I kiss the girl, i score on a corner
she's leaving, her coat is gone
i'm falling , so this is what they mean tumbling
like a car crash,
when a second seems like an hour
the ocd is in charge,
it's 2 am again
the record is stuck, the record is stuck, the record is stuck
from the smashing of plates
and through the roar of the argument
it's words full of anger
the slamming of doors
brings the light
that I float with
along snow covered streets
and flickering street lights
under a the dark blue sky
my thoughts turn to
of better days
with nothing but open highway
ahead of me
