bubbles from compare & contrast by Cleo Handler

riding home on the q train, staring out at the sky
i don’t know why i started to cry
so easy, so nice, so never a jerk
why couldn’t it happen, why wouldn’t it work

if i just ignore it, if i shut my eyes
maybe the bubbles will finally rise
and maybe that feeling of bright carbonation
can power me home, or to the next station

but my eyes are way too insistent
tears are so goddamn persistent
i know things could be so much worse
but the salt is compounding my thirst

driving east on the highway, back from a show
i hope i can see it, but i just don't know
on a golden morning, in the dimming light
maybe we’ll lift off, maybe tonight

if i can push forward, if i just don’t stop
maybe the bubbles will sparkle and pop
and maybe that feeling of bright effervescence
would be what i needed, distilled to its essence

but it’s hard to trick your tastebuds
when your cheeks are stained with makeup
the water flowing down black
and unmistakably flat

• Alternative
• indie rock
• musical-theater
• pop
• rock
• Los Angeles