“Hey. You stick with me kid. Your gonna live forever.” – Lightfoot
Thunderbolt says Lightfoot, lets on the range go, therefore unto heaven, in stars of Montana our ghost goes. And you can be like Eastwood priming, the preacher lessons told, I will look just like Mr. Bridges doing yoga on the road. We can star in pictures, with the high grass in our toes. Mr. Lightfoot, says Thunderbolt, we’re actors on the road. The evening is self-serving, the stars fall overhead, it could be new souls entering the universe, or the exit of the dead. The two they come together, sitting closely side by side, the front seat of a “73” Eldorado, with the “Big Skies” up ahead. Oh, my old friend, my dearest love says Thunderbolt, as he looks up above, for once in our lives, let two old queens enjoy the road ahead. I’ve dressed for you in long gone years, you painted your eyes to absorb hurt tears, and when we hit Montana, the burning will finally end.
Thunderbolt says Lightfoot, the shows we have staged within, the glowing purgatory, hallelujah, as the curtain would ascend. But now it seems a higher purpose, breaking harder on life’s final whim, the fire of something killing me, our last show must begin. My dear Mr. Lightfoot, Thunderbolt’s voice begins, we’ve just entered the gates of heaven, Montana, home, where your life began. Look beyond the script of the movie, your life a cycle spins. I know a fire burns in you, my love my dearest friend. The ghost of a thousand angels, is beyond that sunsets rim. Wait just a little longer till we reach “Wolf Creeks” bend. There’s a place in all dramatics, your life can come to end. And what I’ll do for your sweet memory, for all those folks that you have known. I’ll “Break it to them gently”, I’ll tell them that your home, I’ll tell them you’re the best lay this angel ever had.
Thunderbolt says Lightfoot, his smile a disappearing grin, if you would hand me a different cigar, like Mr. Bridges smoked in the end. Up above this mountain, this steep road, the sun is glowing but it’s midnight, on the watch in my head. The spell it is upon us, the final lines have been said, the fire of what kills cells inside me has left its ash instead. Oh, my old friend, my dearest love says Thunderbolt, as he looks up above, for once in our lives, let two old queens enjoy the road ahead. The silence is between them by moments, as the silence of the dead, as the silence of the dead.
For Angel & Bennie (Daniel 7:10) – 06.11.17 – דָּנִיֵּאל