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Lyrics "Extended Technique", Athletic Progression, Brother Portrait

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My stock Migrant flock First generation who didn't fly home for winter This kid was born in spring In the era of Corduroys and olivetti Corn beef keys and paisley patterns On the peabody block Top floor corner door I was cloud high in dreams but heavy in the air
graceless and tumbling I wake flailing on the bedroom floor Halfway out my pyjamas On summer days Small and all possibility and potential In my coat pockets Hands flipping the folds into wings I scaled trees and nestled in their wisdoms Heard whispers in my ear First learn to play the flow of air I lept And landing a soundless soft compress I fell on my feathers Young though not naive to the doubting ways of man I told few and answered none when I flew Lest their shock suck wind From under this buoyant boy Still suttin got me clipped Cos all I know is that For years now I have been falling onto bones Friends who could scarcely imagine me walking Now shudder at the thud of my body Lift me off my knees Keep dusting me down In this photo see a young me Back when I had my wings See my feet keen to tuck under as I lept to flee to
fly It is proof I was a dreamer not dreaming.