Magical Unrealism from Capital Cities by Run-On Sunshine

Lived in Austin after moving out…
Of my parents’ house, this time for good.
Was hard to make friends in a town so hip.
Like a competition that I could not win.
I’d see touring bands at Emo’s cheap.
Two buck cover’s all ‘cause I didn’t drink.
Yeah and Trail of Dead when they still rocked.
But between bands had no one to talk.
Except those who worked at Emo’s door.
Got to know my face, saw me so much.
Like this lovely girl who took no crap.
When the drunks would not vacate at two a.m.

Was not so long ago.
Where is that girl now I will never know.
Our numbers didn’t share.
Before I left Austin one night she was gone.

I’d wander streets like Guadalupe.
Which they pronounce wrong, in its heyday.
Daniel Johnston’s mural round the corner…
From Sound Exchange and Quackenbush Café.
My furnished closet was in Hyde Park.
With its giant oaks, strolled to the creeks.
In a big city, I found such peace.
First time alone I could really be happy.
Yet dealing with news of mom’s dying.
Needed things beyond hill country hikes.
Said bye to first town that felt like home.
And think of moving back each time I visit, yet…

Here’s what feels unreal.
Trees and mural are still there but so much is gone.
Yet magic cannot be…
Evicted or torn down while Barton Creek still runs.
As long as capital and the clock tower glow.
I’ll always be tempted to try once more.
Or wonder if I made a mistake by leaving.
Left wandering forever in search of home.

Guadalupe Street.
She worked the door.
So much is gone.

• Casiotone
• Punk
• Punk rock
• cassettes
• lo-fi
• twee pop
• Lake Worth Beach