Sunday, February 1, 2009

Burn Every Bridge

-- So if Leann's piece is the prologue to the show that will hopefully be coming up soon, then this would be the opening piece and the title track.  --

"Burn Every Bridge"

This is the story
Of Lyle John Tucker
A poet
A lover
A bad motherfucker

. . . . .

He dated the girlfriends
Of important persona
And fucked them on giant oak desks
On the scripts under consideration
On the numbers of subscribers
On the very nice stationary

Then he left a note
Detailing how they moaned
That their boyfriends received
With their coffee Monday morning
And a copy of their latest bad review

While Lyle worked on his piece
In a worn out old basement
With rust crusting over the tin chairs
And tin cans and rubber bands
Floating in puddles
That leaked down from the floor
Which Lyle called a ceiling

With grease on his hands
And beers in the fridge
He said fuck all the girlfriends
And burn every bridge

He talked shit about everyone
Spread all their grief
Around town
And at Brown
He was known as The Baron

To students who saw
His midnight solo pieces
Eating Reese's while he performed Nietzche
Set to the music
Of old German beer songs
And later played beer pong with them
At their dorms

He'd talk about this one
And bag that one's taste
Impersonate the wasteful tears
Cried by eyes that couldn't discern
Between concern and paradise

A million miles between them
Between Lyle and success
What he knew and he felt
Looking over the cliff
And kissing the ridge

He said fuck all the students
And burn every bridge

He was hunted down
On a cool winter's night
Driven out without fright by a mob
Of artists who distrusted
The rusted powers of a man
Without fear for disconnection
But with a sure direction and path
Towards speaking the truth
And talking some trash

They drove him to New York
LA, or wherever
And if he's there today
Then all the better
Because Lyle knew the truth
Chances are
So do you

There's no point in bridges
That don't lead to greener pastures
Getting your masters can't compare
To living in a basement with rust and despair

If you've got nothing to hide
Then you let a man talk
Your skin should be as strong
As what your art is, or tougher
Rougher mouths talk than Lyle
Though he is one bad motherfucker

Man, we miss Lyle
He took truth when he left
He took truth
And his candor
And he took that old fridge

He said fuck me
I'm out

And burn every bridge

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