Aaron Weiss
Aaron Weiss is the lead vocalist and lyricist for Philadelphia, Pennsylvania-based band mewithoutYou.
What in her do I require?
The face of gratified desire.
Why tear off a single page when you can throw away the book?
You knew better than to pay mind to what people and the devil say.
...as I go showing off again
Self-impressed by how well I can put myself down!
And there I go again
To the next further removed level
Of that same exact feigned humility!
No more spider,
No more leaf,
No more me,
No more belief.
Tell all the stones we're gonna make a building...
We'll be cut into shape and set into place.
Or if you'd rather be a window, I'll gladly be the frame,
Reflecting any kind words, we'll let in all their blame...
I drank a thimble full of fire and I'm not ever coming back.
Orange spider, orange leaf,
Confirms my deepest held belief.
Please, catch for us the foxes in the vineyard... the little foxes.
But I slew Goliath with the sling and stone,
It's not my time to go.
Daniel broke the king's decree,
Peter stepped from the ship to the sea,
There was hope for Job like a cut down tree,
I hope that there's such hope for me.
I'm not the boy that I once was, but I'm not the man I'll be.
I threw the stones down at the reflection of my image in the water
And it altogether disappeared.
I burst as it shattered through me like a bullet through a bottle...
And I'm expected to believe that any of this is real?
I was once the wine, and you the wineglass.
I was once alive, when you held me.
God became the glass:
All things left were emptiness.
Blind as I'd become, I used to wonder where You are-
These days I can't find where You're not!
So may we old-fashionably suggest the Unmarried not undress?
I said "water" expecting the Word would satisfy my thirst,
Talking all about the second and third
When I haven't understood the first.
A fish swims through the sea
While the sea is in a certain sense,
Contained within the fish!
Oh, what am I to think
Of what the writing of a thousand lifetimes
Could not explain
If all the forest trees were pens
And all the oceans - ink?
Grape on the vine... why not be crushed to make wine?
I wrote a little song for you
With a melody I'd borrowed put to words that didn't rhyme
To repeat what you already knew;
As the stones thrown at your window tapped in syncopation,
You kept a distance out of fear you'd break,
But what good's a single windchime, hanging quiet all alone?