How to Set Everything on Fire

If you ever wondered what I was saying underneath the music on this track, it was from a poem called "A Morning Drive". Most of the songs on Don't Give Up were adapted from poems I'd written in a while back, but this one served as the basis for How to Set and Burn out Loud. Here's the full text from the poem. 
You can listen below as you read

A rabbit stands on the edge of the clearing and whispers to the fox,
“I remember when you were alive and well.”

The fox responds with a poem about how to set everything on fire.

The rabbit stands on the edge of a cliff and twitches its ears
And notices the way that the sun meets the ground.
Like two bodies or a bomb. It’s all a blur, the way they burn.

The fox stands at the edge of the ocean and licks up the salt from the sand,
Wondering why everything tastes like tears.

The rabbit learns to pick up radio transmissions
About how the past is remote,
And you can never go back again.

The fox presses its paws into the ground and wakes up in China
With fire on its tongue and autumn in its eyes.

The rabbit whispers to the fox about regret and the way
It can dash itself against your spine.

The fox sinks its teeth
Into your throat and begs for
Something to call
“Real.”

I wake up and my hands are over my eyes.
     I am behind the wheel of a car and my voice is gone.
          I am driving into the morning,
               I am blind and cannot see anything.
                    You are a dream.

 

My stomach is a stone.
And the evening is an ocean.
And I don’t want to see anymore.

I rip the eyelids off the sun.

Everything is golden.

The only color I know how to
Write about anymore
Is gold.

I push the clouds from your cheek
And beg for the sea to stop lapping at our feet like dogs.
The sea is always lapping at our feet like dogs.

 

I've never screamed so loud
As the morning
You cracked open my jaw
Like a hive and
Poured out
Bees.

 

I tried to peel back
The skin across my chest
To let out this swarm
That’s been
Building up.

I know you’re still hiding in there somewhere.
I swear to god I’ll dig you up like bones.

I can’t unmake something that
I never meant to make
In the first place.

I can’t unmake myself.

I am a foxhole.
And the ocean.
And your eyes are the sun
With its eyelids ripped off.

Your face is covered in clouds.
And rain.
And the things you never wanted in the first place
But got anyway.

I’m too tired to change my ways
But here I am changed anyway.

And I don’t know what to do.

I’m out of breath from drinking in your sunlight,
And all I want is to sleep,
But I am wide awake
And it is morning,
And I haven’t spoken in weeks.

My hands are built
From the bones of bees.
Hold me up to the sky.
I am a matchstick.
I will burn like wings.

Watch me ash myself into
A swarm of gold at your feet.

Watch me burn out loud.