Bleeding Typewriter

Clickity clack I miss the sound of that
It woke me from my sleep I had to find where it was at
I stumbled outside through the stripped sycamore trees
The leaves all retreated from the January freeze
Dancer in the dark I saw the fog of my breath
I saw a flash in the park as a coyote wept
I walked towards the spark to a cottonwood tree
I saw an Olympia it saw a darkness in me
Fermented dreams, it saw the rot inside of me
It told the shadows I'm glad you brought him to me
The metal was cold like a glock to my head
That happened in 03 by now I thought I'd be dead
I took the machine home, my mind started to roam
The wind started to moan like a Wayne Shorter poem
It said phantom navigator I will take you to Atlantis
On a saxophone write this night dreamer anthem

The machine kept clacking spilling its metallic history
It said its great grandfather was Francesco from Italy
It spoke of Pellegrino and a Brit named Henry Mill
Chris Sholes, Glidden, and Soule, it had stories to tell
It helped out the blind, it let people speak
In 1874 I got my keys, you call it QWERTY
But knowledge is class war they made the imperial brand
Then came mass war, they made royal for the material man
Used in world war 2 we bombed Hiroshima, Nagasaki too
They used the Corona 3, typing destruction with me
When hitler needed help, IBM had the remedy
Holocaust helpers made the Selectric in the 70s
Crying ink it said you humans made a mistake
Using computers but showing no love to Ada Lovelace
Its ribbon ran dry it had rubber scarred feet
I put my ear to its spool and heard a heartbeat

I changed its ribbon and said thanks for the knowledge you've given
It said there's a soft typewriter tapping the lives we're living
1984 was written on a Remington
The bell tolled for Hemingway he was gone with the setting sun
Popping black beauties, Jack wrote on a scroll
Orpheus Emerged from his underwood though
Baldwin wrote another country with an SM7
Gonzo typed his last letter and took a cannon to heaven
Kaczynski used a Montgomery Ward standard
Plath pounded on a Hermes, searching for the answers
Leonard Cohen drowned his in the Aegean sea
It sunk like a beautiful loser as it rusted in peace
Thank you for finding me in the park your light was strong
Creation has the courage to say you might belong
I swear at night machines come alive, I might be wrong
But last night I watched the Olympia type this song