Echo Park

At last, I lay down my bags, half dead in the pacific sand
I’d been chasing something west, but it stayed just ahead

And today, today is the same as it was then in 2008
In the stillness of central LA, nothing ever blows my way

It’s the same blank sky and the sun so much I don’t even look up
No clouds to dream against, is heaven so far from us?

And no wind waving the trees
It’s as if god’s hands are hid in his sleeves
Like he’s packed up and gone to the coast
And left us alone in the street, hands going slowly east

Oh hands, hold in the prayer, pull the dream from the pacific air
All day you say your namaste, looking for light in the blinding day

You pose and you patiently wait, your arms held out like a sail
So close, you just need the wind, to come blow you up the hill

Those hills, that’s what you need
That cool breeze washing you clean
And you fly high like a kite
Onto the other side of the hard Angelino night

Give us the wind like a smack in the face
The kind that i miss from my easterly days
And when the palm fronds all fall in the street
Aren’t they like hands reaching out, hands reaching out to me?