One day I may look back, or maybe tomorrow will never come,
Either way, before I die I’ll say, “I did it. Now it’s done.”
You’ve got it all broken down, tagged, and put into a box.
So smug with all of your keys, but they’re for all the wrong locks.
When all that we build just comes crashing back down,
We pick up the pieces, restart from the ground.
In the muddiest pond, the lotus blooms.
There are roads that run beneath the city streets,
Where the demons draw shadows from the deeps of our sleep.
We fight like we love, pulling no punches, loaded gloves,
So we live to love another day, and push back when we’re shoved.
I know you had to go, so you went, and now you stink,
But don’t worry bout it, baby, just relax, have a drink.
She had enough of my shit, writing that mail, dumping me.
She don’t need nobody else, she keeps herself company.
Andrew Houston came to Tokyo from Los Angeles in 2003 to teach video production to dreamers and malcontents. Since then he has worked as a freelance video producer, photographer, translator and on-set interpreter, rocked clubs and parties from Chiba to Osaka as a founding member of 3000 Worlds, and held several solo photography exhibitions in smoky watering holes and other dens of ill-repute. Past clients include Nike, Land Rover, Fidelite Films, Twentieth Century Fox, and Wieden+Kennedy.
He loves prowling the city with a camera, and dreams of growing tomatoes in the empty lot outside his window, but goes clammy at the thought of asking his neighbors for permission. Not that he isn’t a friendly, neighborly sort of fellow. It’s complicated. He lives in Shinjuku.