While out in Austin last month, Sage Francis linked up with Daytrotter for a special performance at SXSW. During the session, the Rhode Island native performed a live rendition of “Thank You” which will live on his upcoming Copper Gone LP, due out June 3rd.
Take a listen to the live recording and follow along with the lyrics provided below.
You gave me language as a gift.
I turned it against you.
I was stupid, I was dumb,
I was hanged by my Judas tongue.
You shouldn’t give weapons to kids who don’t know better.
They can’t possibly understand that there’s no such thing as forever.
For every letter in the alphabet…
You said, “Connect em to a happy word
no matter how bad things get.”
I did my best but the pickings got slim,
Once I arrived at “x”
and I had to think of synonyms.
I weighed them against the antonyms.
I was hanging with all the mannequins
Who were on a constant search for a person’s amputated limbs.
Almost offered up my own
by trading in my arms and legs.
You said, “Learn to express yourself
if you’re gonna stand for things.”
I stood up. Without expression.
Stood up against everything.
Including you. I was stupid. I was adolescent.
But I had your lessons to cling on to
and I want you
to know how much it helped
considering everything that I’d gone through.
There was a period without periods.
Run-on sentences were like binges.
I was a comma with no pause.
A rebel with no clause.
Anxiety’s no excuse
once there’s nothing left to separate.
We could have connected, but didn’t.
I was ignorant.
Passed out on the space bar.
The further we drifted apart the closer I came
to realizing just how amazing you are.
Now that you’re gone I’m going to say it to the stars,
Until my words knock worlds off their axis
and the universe collapses.
Thank you for the matches.
For the gift of fire.
For the wood and the axe.
For whoopin’ my ass.
For the wheel. Even if you didn’t invent it.
For the impact that you had on me. It’s epic.
Thank you for the effort.
For teaching me the ABC’s.
Even if I never make my way to Z.
Even if I never do for someone else
exactly what you did for me.
Thank you.
I was a stupid son of a gun with initials carved into me.
I was a stray. A runaway. Afraid some day you’d shoot me.
So I scratched off the letters with a pocket knife.
That’s how I lost my way when I was tossed into the fray.
This is not my life.
Who am I kidding, this is a Thank You note disguised as a written apology,
for everything you taught to me.
So awkwardly I approach…
the open microphone with everything that I wrote.
Clear my throat, adjust the collar on my coat,
As I rock crowds, microphones, and boats.
Then I stroke whatever little ego I have left.
I should have left it at the altar.
But I didn’t because I’m an idiot, self-deprecating author.
With a paperback edition
that isn’t worth a flip through,
If I don’t give you the credit that you deserve.
You edited the words.
From the grave and beyond.
From the first sign of sun rays at dawn,
Until the moonbeams set blaze to my lawn.
The universe collapses on my front steps.
We get to share in that moment.
For just one moment.
And nobody’s upset. And there’s no more anger.
There are no more sunsets
So I crawl back in the chamber.
You can shoot me up. You might as well.
We had great communication before the tower fell.
Thank you for the matches.
For the gift of fire.
For the wood and the axe.
For whoopin’ my ass.
For the wheel. Even if you didn’t invent it.
For the impact that you had on me. It’s epic.
Thank you for the effort.
For teaching me the ABC’s.
Even if I never make my way to Z.
Even if I never do for someone else
exactly what you did for me.
I’ll do my best. While you rest.
In peace.
Thank you.
