BUSTED STUFF

By the end of October, my heart had cracked open
And under my feet, the earth was gone
I have always bent toward madness
Like a butterfly being dizzied by the sun

Watching my feet, I approach the distance
To the edge where the light pours in
God, he left me standing there
Not knowing how it ends

Townes Van Zandt sings like an angel
His voice sounds like the rain
They took away his memories
Running electricity through his brain

I listen to his sad songs
Whenever I can't cry
The dead leaves, they are falling down
I hear the train go by

Someday I might get on it
With the summer in my eyes
I'll go to where the orange trees grow
And I will feel alive

The beauty of a broken heart
Is that it knows the sun
It skips just like a record does
Scratched and worn and loved

Townes said, his songs, they weren't sad
He thought of them as hopeless
Like being caught inside a fog
Overtaken by the ocean

When I hear him sing
I always think of the Pacific
Of a golden shoreline far away
Where everything is different

They say God sees a broken heart
Like the stars shine in the sky
Busted stuff, all opened up
Shimmering gold and red and white.