Puppet Boy

by Erik Sanko

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1.
Stranger please, I'd like to go back to the time when we, when we had never met and there was nothing to forget 'cause you, regret and me were better off as strangers three. Stranger please, I wonder if we couldn't take back these things we said but shouldn't, cursing that ventriloquist who made your mouth an angry fist that kissed us strangers three. And now my memory's a minefield, though it's been riddled with our tears. And though they say that only time heals, I'll make you disappear if it takes a hundred years. Stranger please, so if you wouldn't mind releasing me from this unholy bind - let ash to ash and dust to dust because you and me and trust are just the same as as strangers three. And now my memory's a tattoo, the green inky outline of your name. They say that patience is a virtue but I hope you fade away before another day. Stranger please, so now the credits role up on the screen, the same stupid story's told- the lights come up, the ushers weep as you, me and deceit complete the theme of strangers three, just us strangers three, bye-bye strangers three.
2.
Cross the "t" as in "tragedy" by the old spine and dot the "i" in "apologize" for the last line. And words that bind this lullaby to a nightmare wake us up where we began. Emphasize and italicize for the meaning. Parenthesize "…over Jessie's eyes..." while she's sleeping. And words that bind this lullaby to a nightmare wake us up where we began.
3.
I think there were roses, I'd swear there were roses, and there was the ocean's hum and somebody singing some song that I used to know but that was a long time ago. I think she was laughing, yes I'd swear she was laughing - a dance in an empty room and under the waning moon something was whispered low but that was a long time ago. I think I was staring, I'm sorry for staring you see you remind me of the girl that I used to love I'd better get going home 'cause that was a long time ago.
4.
I dreamt I was an empty boat floating on the sea, but the sea was black and swallowed anything that sailed upon its back. I dreamt I was a lonely snake snaking through the earth, but the earth was black and swallowed anything that snaked upon its back. And I dreamt I had a Valentine's, pressed her lips to mine, but her lips were black and they swallowed anything that passed before their crack. And I dreamt you were a photograph swaddled all in white I kissed your wooden spine and swallowed all my pride - you are no longer mine. Then I dreamt we were alone at last drifting to the sun because the sun was white I followed all my clues, to me the sun was you, I followed all my clues, to me the sun was you and I'm following the sun but the sun won't follow me.
5.
He knew her face better when the lights were off and could not erase the palette of her words. They made their way into the tissue of his dreams and built their nest, shiny silver birds. No longer can the fisherman stand by. She knew his face better when the screen was lit and cut and paste a dialogue of bones. And in a place somewhere in between the frames she found a grace withered and alone. No longer can the fisherman stand the tightness of the line so he closes his eyes and raises his hands high. Now when they face it seems that all the lines are blurred once pulled so tense from under and above. And now they trace two figures as they intertwine. The sea's embrace envelopes them in love. No longer can the fisherman stand the tightness of the line so he closes his eyes and raises his hands to the endless plain of sky.
6.
A single voice, the silver thread unravels sentences from the pages. The spoken words alight like birds and spin in spirals around our heads - yours veiled in white delightful coils it's a beauty a name would soil but tenderness fits you best, it's the suit that you wear so well, dressing up for the show and tell when bells will ring. The flowers fly the old girls cry beneath umbrellas of memory, the golden ring, new queen and king pray and kneel at the throne of love basking under the clangs above when bells will ring. And it's love that makes her glow, take my word for it I should know when bells will ring.
7.
There's the color of tea that's been steeping too long, steeped in memory of buzzing yellow swarms. But if you show me your room I'll gladly show you mine, your beautiful cryptic tomb where nothing ever dies. I wanted to ask her but words underwater they get stuck in the syrup of the beekeeper's daughter. There's the humming of trees where fragrant flags unfurl and just a drop for the queen and another drop for the girl I wanted to show her to build her an alter with bee's wax for the mortar to the beekeeper's daughter. I wanted to ask her but words underwater they get in the syrup before they can adorn her and I wanted to show her, to build her an alter with bee's wax for the mortar to the beekeeper's daughter.
8.
The memories are so thick but now time slips in between them like the ocean through a sieve, like streaming down the cheeks from staring at the sky that ties us up inside. Don't let them slip away like the waves pull sandy weeds away from rocky shores just leaving residue, it's the sad cruel residue that ties us up inside. The memories are not thin, they're a deep vermillion hue and full of gravity when I pull them from the box that's tied up inside my head by a ribbon there that says, "A large, large part of my small, small life that ties us up inside. A large, large part of my small, small life that ties us up inside". Someday we may be friends and the box inside my head can be filled up again.
9.
Mother says, "Look out below there's a madman and a liar. Take the gun out of his hands because he's playing with fire. Wake me awake, am I dreaming? Because no one here will say exactly who's to blame for breaking the backbones of reason. You throw it all away when these children want to play too rough enough to raze the bluff to an anthill with a finger and roll the bones with creaks and groans of a gambler on a bender. Wake me awake, am I dreaming? Because no one here will say exactly who's to blame for breaking the backbones of reason. You throw it all away when these children want to play too rough. Wake me awake, am I dreaming?"
10.
I found me lost in a dream of an endless blue meander where diamond words, anointed pearls tipped the blades of heaven's lathe. And down below they waved hello, their feeble arms beating the air. Aren't you afraid, the boy made your fatal wings of wax and hair, 'cause you're no god, this is no dream - you're just a boy, and after all, boys can fall.

credits

released March 25, 2016

Recorded and mixed at The Hiss Factory by Erik.
"The Fisherman's Line" recorded and mixed by Andy Green at
Sheriff Bob's and "Lullaby To A Nightmare" and "Boys Can Fall" were also mixed by Andy.
"I Dreamt I Was A Boat" and 'The Beekeeper's Daughter" were originally recorded by Anton Sanko at Easter Island.
This record would never have seen the light of day were it not for the tireless efforts and support of the most patient, loving, beautiful and brilliant person I've ever met - Jessica Grindstaff and our magical imp, Freya Rabbit.
In memorium: June Sanko

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Erik Sanko New York, New York

Erik Sanko is best known as a contributor to many of downtown NYC's infamous musical elite and a founding member of the joyfully raucous Skeleton Key.
After releasing the critically acclaimed solo record "Past Imperfect, Present Tense" in 2001 Erik broke a guitar string and lost his train of thought.
Expect the follow up no sooner than 2029.
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