and, until...
by Miguel de Soria
(audio)

it's like when four blue balloons go walking unto paradise
and i cried, i cried, aaahhhh ... god, in the morning
three green euphemistic sticks sent scents running oregon blues
i would i were a wave! that i might crash against a han shan wall
zen magic monks, leaving traces, proving the big crystal void
in my medicine cabinet, clear beads and holy book, no telegram today

all day long, wearing a hat that wasn't on my head today
young girls with pretty pink flesh, useless, useless, no paradise
thinking about the drunkards of mexico, and holy book void
nightfall, too dark to dream the page, gotta wait here til morning
the huddled invisible insect dissolves into the wall
dripping into the infinities of space, the night drinks blues

my eager insignificance dotting along license plate blues
gonna find the white crumpled sheets of the last hotel today
gonna find me a sweet mary and pin her against a wall
then we'll see about the railways, airports, paths to paradise
forget these frenzied telephone calls, let her read here til morning
fill her vacant sea-green eyes with an unattainable void

feeding on nothing, spitting back, spending your share of the void,
return those shoes to the shoemaker! return me to the blues
mirror projects a cigarette in lips, but i have no place to go this morning
coulda gone today, coulda lived today, instead i rot today
remember holy sticks and clear books, remember paradise
one bright shining poster of kerouac hanging on my wall

who taught you to sing for me jack? nailed on my crystal wall-
who taught you to sing me dreams, and send me off into the void?
i never told nobody that you cried when you found paradise
i never told nobody that you cried when you sang the blues
i just wanted to borrow some of your dharma for today
they just wanted to find you, kiss you, and love you til morning

the words are drunk, the page is wet, and i've been reading all morning
only more leaves fell, and i lost count, forty-two sticks on the wall
i never expected the innocence of my youth today
but there it was, staring at me, the unattainable void
i crumbled, i begged, for the safety of the bowery bum blues
all this jazz about sex and drugs has stolen my paradise

a paradise wall
that fills the morning void
but i can't imagine anything more beautiful than the blues today