"If I had Eyes"

If I had eyes in the back of my head
I would have told you that
You looked good
As I walked away

Eyes in the back? Eyes to see behind? Eyes to see a behind I can't or won't turn around to make an in-front-of. Eyes to see you even when I'm not looking. A comment--a compliment--to make you feel what you are, to make you see how you are. My eyes--these ones that make the behind possible--allow you to see who you are? Maybe. Maybe not.


The more of this or less of this or is there any difference
or are we just holding onto the things we don't have anymore

From seeing to holding--from sight to touch. What we can't see we can't hold? And, how does one hold onto something they no longer have? How does one hold on to absence?


Sometimes time doesn't heal
No not at all
Just stand still
While we fall
In or out of love again I doubt I'm gonna win you back
When you got eyes like that
It won't let me in

Time, healing? Strange. Time is the opposite of healing--it is the temporal antecedent to death--the experience that makes my experience of my-self impossible.

Stand still? In time? In the movement which is unbearable, inexpressible, uncanny? Stand still and fall in and out--strange.

And, those eyes. Those eyes--won't let me in to a place not even you know; a place not even you get access to. Those eyes--the locale of a world irreducible, even if it remains without why. Those eyes--the ones looking through me to the place I don't know--the one inside I don't have access to.

That's the answer isn't it? All of this talk of time, of falling, of love. It ends with those eyes--the ones that take me out of time--out of the unavoidable path towards my impossible end--that take me to a world which remains without why, but where the question of why is suspended in favor of something secret, something inexpressible, but something so, so Good.


Lot of people spend their time just floating
We were victims together but lonely
You got hungry eyes that just can't look forward
Can't give them enough but we just can't start over
Building with bent nails we're
falling but holding, I don't wanna take up anymore of your time
Time time time

Victims--of time, yes. Who isn't? Eyes--looking forward into a back that wants to see you--wants to see through you--but can't make the back the front. Falling, time, holding--a question without answer--without origin or end.

What then? What's left?

That world--the one we shared--the one without time--that is the eternal and that is the place to look. Turn your eyes there and let it the chorus chime as long as it takes--time, time, time.