Don’t slow it down

Back stairwell, bad light
water cup shaking in my hand
Someone says I look fine
That’s not the same as where I am

The mirror throws me back
with the color half alive
I pin my hair up wrong
and step into the wires

The floor is already moving
The kit is counting loud
The amps are coughing heat
into the blackout crowd

No crowd
Just ghosts of volume
Just the room going bright

I can feel my pulse
trying to get ahead of the lights

Up in the throat
up in the hands
up where the body
stops making plans

If I come apart
let it be clean
If I start to shake
feed me the machine

Upper fever
running white in my blood
Upper fever
I can’t come down enough

If the roof gets low
I will sing through the ceiling
If the room says no
I will outrun the feeling

Upper fever
high enough to make it real

Make it real
Make it real
Upper fever
make it real

Red light on the console
Blue light in my teeth
Every little failure
keeps a rhythm under me

My boots hit cable
My chest hits flame
Somebody in the old room
would have told me to behave

But I’m done with pretty panic
Done with being still
Done with asking softly
if I’m allowed to feel

Give me the wrong note
Give me the spark
Give me the take
where the voice goes too far

Up in the throat
Up in the hands
Up where the body
stops making plans

If I come apart
let it be clean
If I start to shake
feed me the machine

Upper fever
running white in my blood
Upper fever
I can’t come down enough

If the roof gets low
I will sing through the ceiling
If the room says no
I will outrun the feeling

Upper fever
high enough to make it real

This is not joy
Not exactly

This is the body
finding one more door

This is the voice
standing on a table
inside my chest

Saying

Again

Again when the light bends
Again when the breath breaks
Again when the room tilts
Again when the hand shakes

Again when the old fear
comes dressed like a limit

I was not born quiet

I was born in it

Upper fever
running white in my blood
Upper fever
I can’t come down enough

If the roof gets low
I will sing through the ceiling
If the room says no
I will outrun the feeling

Upper fever
high enough to make it real

Make it real
Make it real

Don’t slow it down