Текст песни: Distortion + перевод

But that December I was shaken by a pregnancy scare from someone that I’d been

with for only one night many states away, who I hadn’t planned to keep knowing.

A young and embarrassing over-confident animal night. The terror of the idea

of fatherhood at twenty-three destroyed my foundation and left me freaked out

and wandering around mourning the independence and solitude that defined me

then

Though my life is a galaxy of subtleties, my complex intentions and aspirations

do not matter at all in the face of the crushing flow of actual time.

I saw my ancestors as sad and misunderstood in the same way that my

descendants will squint back through a fog trying to see some polluted version

of all I meant to be in life — their recollections pruned by the accidents of

time, what got thrown away and what gets talked about at night

But she had her period eventually and I went back to being twenty-three

Eleven years later I was traveling alone again on an airplane from New Zealand

to Perth, Western Australia, very alone, so far away from you and the home that

we had made

I watched a movie on the plane about Jack Kerouac, a documentary going deeper

than the usual congratulations. They interviewed his daughter, Jan Kerouac,

and she tore through the history. She told about this deadbeat drinking,

watching Three Stooges on TV, not acknowledging his paternity, abandoning the

child, taking cowardly refuge in his self-mythology. And when she spoke I heard

your voice telling me about the adults who had abandoned you as a sweet kid and

left you to grow precariously. And when she spoke I looked in her face and saw

you looking back at me on a tiny airplane seat screen at the bottom of the

world. I saw a French-Canadian resemblance, and I heard suffering echoing

A lineage of bad parents and strong daughters withstanding, and she had black

hair and freckles and pale skin just like you, and she told the hard truth and

slayed the gods just like you

I saw the cracks in the façade of posterity

I missed you so I went home

The second dead body I ever saw was you, Geneviève, when I watched you turn

from alive to dead right here in our house

And I looked around the room and asked «Are you here?», and you weren’t,

and you are not here, I sing to you though

I keep you breathing through my lungs in a constant uncomfortable stream of

memories trailing out until I am dead too, and then eventually the people who

remember me will also die, containing what it was like to stand in the same air

with me and breathe and wonder why

And then distortion

And then the silence of space

The Night Palace

The ocean blurring

But in my tears right now

Light gleams

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