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Transportation I

by Julian Cartwright

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1.
They say to live from the heart’s not easy, but you jump in greedy, just you and your Jeep. And what you have to leave behind is someone who’s the love of your life. God knows, maybe. It’s what you have to do.
2.
All unborn I, just a virgin of life, came upon a virgin motorbike. When I came up to the light it went. When I came up on life it went. But then I, and just I, came up with a version of my life. And now I’m wastin’. . . Early on I saw the pictures goin’ by. Bullfrogs, billboards, everything. Always comin’ up on the scene in the movie where I, when I. . . . A Schwinn is to a Harley, as a Harley was to me. So much I saw while goin’, so much I didn’t see. So much I had to phone in, lazy. Lazy me. Now I’m wastin’ all of my powers and I’m watchin’ the world go by. But then I get up close to your body and that’s a ride. Just like the perfect magnificent bee lives under concrete, my life is. . . beautiful. Except we don’t have much to hang onto, except we don’t have much to hang onto, or. . . nothing. But just as the future’s hangin’ onto our wings, while saddled on the stripes, I hang onto the beautiful side of life. But I’m wastin’ all of my powers and I’m watchin’ the world go by/ Then I get up close to your body and that’s a ride. I woke up a virgin, slowed down at the curb. Ended up emerging, only that’s absurd. Turning back into myself, where I should have been in the beginning, only now I learned. Shouldn’t have been chasin’ nobody else. . . back into myself. Just like I should have been when I started out-- but in myself. I ended up in life’s wiggles.
3.
4.
Hey Mister 01:27
Hey mister, I’ve been lookin’ in the mirror at you. And mister would you kindly tell your woman I’ve been lookin’ too. And help me find a good man, if you can get over me. If I can get over you. Mister Cartwright It’s all right. Mister Cartwright It’s all right. Whoa. Who’s gonna make me change? I wanna get a real name. Who’s gonna make me change? I wanna get a real name. Until I insist, it will be Mister.
5.
Ella and Joe 02:23
It was a book week, spent just you and me. Silent days and nights alight for being free. The time we spoke of a future, not laughing, I felt that’s for me. Now I’m in the middle of two things, neither of them with you. I want to get back to the week when we roasted and knew what to do. I want to get back to that past, the one I helped to create. At last I got my wish, one year later I went, now I wait. Nights open to the water, sky falling like a Rembrandt. I’m looking for an everyday prayer. When I try to remember, I can’t. I’m learning my lessons all in a simple way. With lessons this simple, it’s difficult to be here today.
6.
Half Moon 03:13
It appears that it'll rain for peace talks. I thought “I’ll take off my boots so I can stand over the half moon and walk.” But half the moon filled up, and I jumped out. . . no parachute. So now I’m in the middle of absolutely humorless political conflict, singing new love songs about my experiences with the moon and stuff. Fortunately the rain stopped, still no peace talks. I climbed back up. I wrote a hundred thousand songs in that empty cup about politics. Then the moon dumped me out. And after all, I went back to singing up.
7.
Whoa-oh, bittersweet feeling, Whoa-oh, bittersweet feeling. Wanted to create something permanent, make something useful, Joe. I had that feeling. And the fact is: what I manufactured would only be useful to the soul when you have that permanent feeling. The permanence of that feeling, though. . . I was shooting with a camera, and immediately thought that the frames between faces were the only real shots. I asked you to move, and you said “What?” I asked you to move, and you said “What? What?” Oh, it gives a bittersweet feeling when you’re feeling bittersweet. Whoa-oh, bittersweet feeling, Whoa-oh, bittersweet feeling, oh. Wanted to create something useful, something permanent in fact. I had that bittersweet feeling. That feeling, oh the feeling, but the fact: is what I manufactured could only be used when you have that feeling and the feeling is abused. Whoa-oh, bittersweet feeling. Whoa-oh, bittersweet feeling.
8.
It's no trouble, I’ll take over. Problems, I’ll solve them, worries, like a motor. I am your other rudder and you’ll not boat alone. Last time I took her on the water I had no companion. Someone was drowning, I rowed toward. But they had jumped from an empty vessel and would not climb aboard. I rowed through the crags, circling. I saw four bubbles surfacing. Boating alone, one less good mood. Two lungs and I’ll float, boat allowing.
9.
If we could be like the red robin, flyin’ over the bridge to see the end, we’d know how to live, we’d learn to spend. When she starts to arrange for daylight, that’s when there’s only black and red. And flyin’ over the bay, home free, she baffles and descends. Those sailin’ in the patient, gratitude and chips extend. Woe in the solvent, what’s washing west again. The bobbin’ never met the robin or a redwood tree. How come we got to regret, then, the bird we never came to be?
10.
Always walking in a circle, but things could be worse. And nothing is for certain. I know things could be worse. Like a sculptor and a salesman imagining what things could be, not thinking things could get better, when they know that things could be. . . worse. But I’ll be different, I’ll quit stumbling-- quit thinking things could change by force. And I'll toss my fate to the wind or something, predicting nothing, though I’ll be wrong. Then I’ll sing, “I don’t know how someone could sing something having forgotten not only anything, but the thing you once remembered about the feeling of the feeling of the song.” Then I’ll sing, “I don’t know how someone could sing something having forgotten not only anything, but the thing you once remembered about the feeling of the feeling of the song.”
11.
Reachin’ out to the side to attain what is hazy. Wishin’ further out while invisible won’t face me. Then one afternoon I closed my eyes. It was not one of my first or final tries, and there she was in blue. Short of sailing, how I was seeking would never do. Unimaginable how slow I was to fall into.. and there she was in blue. Soft, so soft I saw her in you.
12.
Fables 03:10
You used to be required to make stories up. And stories were reliable, because they were enough. Now the liars and the fakes are held up to the light of glory-- we like to let them off. What happens when your own life is tough? They recommend you call upon the same old stuff. But there are too many people now alive, for fables to be relevant, yet the fables still survive. What happens when you are sick? You might have to move to get rid of it. I’m going to a stable sphere, leaving all the fables here. A million animals to race against, until nothing is making sense. A million animals to race against, until nothing is making sense.

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released March 2, 2014

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Julian Cartwright New Jersey

Julian Cartwright is a songwriter, instrumentalist, composer and arranger based in the Philadelphia area. Instagram @julian.cartwright.songs

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