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Shane Koyczan & The Short Story Long
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Atlantis
Shane Koyczan and the Short Story Long
Your entire body shakes you when laugh,
As if your sense of humour was built on a fault line
And the coast of your heart
Falls into the ocean of yourself
And I'm left looking for this Atlantis.
Left looking for this place
That exists in the stories told by old men
Who were there when mathematics assured them.
Their willingness to believe
Was greater than their determination to dismiss
I'm left looking for Atlantis.
Regardless of the scientist that insists
My efforts would be better spent
Unearthing clues to where the wild things went.
Try as it might,
Faith can't put a dent fact.
So we must settle for science re-enact the world,
As if the universe was curled around this globe
And if we consider that the universe is never ending
Then we're not even a microbe.
We're like a death threat from a pacifist,
We're nothing.
But the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle states that:
'Nothing is fo' shizzle'
And the interesting thing about that
Is that it ensures that the principle itself can't even be a fact.
But we still act as though
This time we can see the forest through the trees.
Regardless of the soft wood lumber levies,
We fall in line like reforested pine.
It's all straight rows
Were everything grows a little less wild,
A little more humdrum,
Ho, hum.
We come from the mentality
That rarely sees the horror in symmetry
Or the beauty in non-conformity.
We insist that for us,
Everything must be clear cut.
But what about philosophy?
What about the tree that fell in the forest
That no one was around to hear?
It's a little less clear,
A little more deep.
Deep like,
If Oprah Winfrey farts in a bathtub
And no bubbles come to the surface,
Is there an alternate universe
Where the price of gas is cheap?
Possible,
But we can't prove it,
Any more than we can prove
That light can move fast enough
To stop a monster hiding in the closet.
We deposit our faith in fear
But clear our minds to the possibility that
Maybe we as adults,
Still get scared of the dark.
Things that go bump in the night.
And I can't prove that I've ever loved anyone,
But despite the smoking
And the overweight body
I want to grow old with you.
Go through muscle and joint pains
To the point that every time it rains
We can feel it in our knees.
Get arthritis so bad,
That every time we move
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We sound like two bowls of Rice Krispies.
We're all 'Snap, Crackle and pop'
But we still take the time to stop,
And take the time.
I'm looking for Atlantis.
Letting faith turn this fiction into fact
As if I tracked this missing continent for decades,
And all I know so far
Is that it is somewhere under water.
I'm looking for clues in the most blurry photos of UFOs
And thinking,
If alien are so smart,
Than why don't they start making their spaceships look like airplanes?
That way we'd just point to the sky and say:
'An airplane, how common place and not at all suspect.'
We're all shipwrecked on this idea
That everything has to be explained.
But maybe we just need to believe
That lemmings jump off cliffs to prove that they love us.
And sure,
That sacrifice is as empty as the box of condoms
That politicians used when they thought they could fuck us.
But it is nice to believe that somebody up there
Cares enough to plummet onto jagged, back-breaking rocks
In an attempt to tells us,
We're beautiful.
Tell us that as far as life goes,
Our finger prints are like snowflakes.
We leave them on everything
But they melt in the time it takes to touch someone's tongue.
But if we're lucky,
Maybe we're remembered
Along with the sunken cities of a lost continent.
This is for each child
Who is a monument to the one's who came before.
Maybe the best we can hope for
Is that those we leave behind find comfort in knowing
That we're born out of love,
And not science.
That biology explains the how,
Love explains the why,
So in the event of our deaths
We hereby bequeath all of these words to you.
And they are only meant to say that
Uncertainty is something everyone goes through.
And there is not much in the way of proof
But believe me, we loved you.
We held our breaths for your first step,
Your first word.
We laughed when it finally occurred to you,
Lemons are sour.
This is for every time
Love becomes the finest minute and the darkest hour.
This if for those who scour the streets
Wondering where the wild things went.
For the believers who leant us their madness.
This is for everyone we miss.
And this is for the children who were lost.
Sadness is nothing more than the cost of being able to smile
Once in a while.
And grief is the trial we stand to offer evidence
That your finger prints were left on our hearts
And our skin,
And in terms of proof,
Love can be demonstrated in giving.
Our lives consist of the efforts we give
In swimming towards the lost continent
Where you are rumoured to be living.
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