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letra de on the american forever - sled napkin

there was a sat-rday night once in early early april when even the sun seemed as systematic as everything else we waited for it to go down and let us be
we spent some time wishing on andy chirstopherson to show us our youth again as though he would bring us the summer that saves, and always will save our misunderstood belief in the infinite, and that night was the first night in a long while in which we realized that it was our ideas that will see the moonlit grand that an idea will and always will be with us among our hopes to never die and never forget and never let go
it was an idea the promise of ninth avenue grand wazoo still beautiful and still moonless now that allowed salvation to come, and when it did it felt like the only thing that ever was
all of this our songs our spoken words our written words our films the narcotic incredible which falls like rain
all these things we are knowing and wanting to know have sewn themselves into tangible drags of what it ought to be somehow someday, but most possibly now
kiva you’ve broken the first bulb that ever burned my eyes
you wrote a song man that made me look at myself more than i ever have
you wrote a song and it’s going to burn a hole in the world big enough for all of us to climb through together
it has to be together we cannot allow ourselves to forget anyone
the idea of riley hartnett a sad disbelief in the soul still in search of a reason to make it all go down
the idea of jessica binder mother to us all with the ever open palm of what she wishes to hand us down
the idea of ian wallace warming up to the new youth rebellion of a million ways left to sway and never stop
the idea of molly enright more loyal than the setting of the sun after a dinner of contemplative seed yet to be sowed into the dirt about her feet, and i believe that in our own way we each wish upon molly this perfect friend if only she would take us in
it is too much to ask however so we do not
the idea of the ecstatic coming together for one night when the dunes proved insanely more than climbable, and we all cracked our skulls along with ian wallace that night for the feeling of wanting to be in love
and so here i am finding myself owing it all to those same kids who’ve held each moment in their hands, with red-eyed stares taking it all in the same kids who promised a perfect divinity to the witness of stars upon souls that wished upon them the most
who wished for -rg-smic crows of skin and ugly bone pressed flesh into nothing more than first impression glances of introduction
kids who ran mad the coils of their minds into an honest gesture aimed, into the ever-present all-is-one; and held each other in lucid understanding for the feeling of god
kids who made holy lockings of lip and tongue into wild kisses of sympathy as they created flowers to pass among the dream
who shared thoughts of grand wazoo growth and realized a love aged into insanity who took it all as it came in crazy screams beneath the bridge
and at last when it’s over, when there’s nothing left to offer or lose, the least that we can do is to tell it to those who sit with the same sore backs and cross the legs that we’ve managed to sit upon, and that we are all in love with the love that all came back as we sit here now a little more apart feeling that we owe it all, each f-cking minute to the people that we love, to the people who pushed us to write it all down and sing it loud one last song by which to remember
ourselves

- sled napkin

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