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We Are The City

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We Are The City

Friends Hurt

my home videos won't mean a thing in fifty years
that day will come and all i've done will be rendered forgotten

old vhs tapes — the broken arm and the baby — my first bike ride when my dad told me he wouldn't let go of the seat
vhs videos — 'here he is, the man of my dreams' — now those tapes that meant everything to me aren't even fit for a yard sale

it hurts
when friends are hurting
my friends are hurting

look below the surface — do you see the spawning salmon, unaware or well aware of their living and dying?
feel the money magic — the forest like a couch — can you forget those days of vast daring, lone poplar, and five dollar bills?