#41: Moose in a Tree

This song is co-written by Bert and Jon Dhama. I wrote this poem in a frantic moment on Friday night. I think I might have changed only two or three words in taking it from a poem to lyrics. On Saturday morning I read the poem to Jon in the car on a drive up north. He liked it so I asked him if he'd write the guitar parts. So that weekend we put together this song. Today Jon came over and we recorded this song and I've been in a good mood ever since. Now about the song. I knew a hunter at my old work and I once asked him how it was possible to carry a moose out of the woods once you killed him. He told me that for starters you have to hang up the moose in a tree and cut him open so his guts spill out. That image has been in my mind for sometime. Then the other night when I had this sense that everything inside me was ready to burst out, the moose came to mind and that idea of letting the pressure of all my insides out seemed like a magical solution to how I was feeling. 

I thought we were two souls with a single thought but both of us were thinking that we're not really living and we're not, not like this, we'll end up distraught. We're not two souls in love with a single thought. So hunt me down like a moose by a blind. Cut me down when I'm looking behind. And tie up my legs and hoist me up to the sky and draw a knife from my neck down to my thigh. This pressure in my soul; I can't take it anymore. This pressure in my soul; I hemorrhage and adore. The pressure of my blood that pounds in these veins, the torrents of the river expanding and insane. And my brain and blood and heart and mud mix on the forest floor, cut me open and spill this blood; I can't take this pressure anymore.