Name: Mount Eerie Live in Glendale (In Studio Performance)
Uploaded: 2024-11-27T13:01:13.000Z
Description: Watch the stand-up comedy video 'Mount Eerie Live in Glendale (In Studio Performance)' from Office Hours Live with Tim Heidecker on Comedy Buff. Published 2024-11-27. Transcript available.

Watch the stand-up comedy video 'Mount Eerie Live in Glendale (In Studio Performance)' from Office Hours Live with Tim Heidecker on Comedy Buff. Published 2024-11-27. Transcript available.

It's almost as if I'm looking at a corner of the sky through a cardboard tube
And I'm impressed, it seems huge
This is my idea of bottomlessness
Too small a slice of the night sky
Through an empty paper towel roll
Without even trying, I diminish infinity
Knowing that wide winds find me
From a place I'll never know
I'm human, I know very little
I narrow my eyes with my life
So far and all its conditions
I squint at the sky
From in my narrow tunnel vision
But can I abandon this position and see beyond my little life?
I sit and breathe slow at the end of the night
And finally the sun cracks over the hill
A brief glimpse through wide open air
And this is called empty paper towel roll
And this is called I spoke with a fish
I told a fish
I told a fish
What you see as a palace is running water
What you see as those mountains is flowing matter
No
What you see as those mountains is flowing matter
What you see as those mountains is flowing
I said okay
And after our talk I saw the wall of rock
As a wave in the middle of breaking
A rock slide echoed across the gorge
My small perspective fading
Who am I
But a blink of the eye
A stance that a river would take
Even wanted to pause.
Recorded music is a statue of a waterfall.
The flashing glint on the marble where the eye once was,
on a taxidermied marlin's frozen leaf.
With or without me, there to see it.
Rain begins to fall back into the creek.
No, no, no.
I told a fish,
I like how you move through the water as one flowing muscle.
The fish said,
I dig your style too, man.
Trying to see from in this room where it is blinding.
Learning to breathe beneath the surface of all the wrecked up things I haul
with me around.
Learning to breathe beneath the surface of all the wrecked up things I haul
with me around.
I heard singing at twilight.
Trailed by belongings, I crawled forward into a clearing at dusk.
And got a huge fire going.
It grew.
Night fell and I kept throwing whatever I could pick up into the flames.
Nothing but me and all this shattered wood I've been pulling into a heap of
flames and smoke.
This is my life.
This is my life.
And by now I've lived long enough to know that nothing's stronger than the blow.
It's a whipping wind the way it tears.
The sparks are full and the sky yawning open.
Breath only, very rarely song.
You were singing at twilight with your fingers moving and I'd heard the same
song in a dream.
And I sing it now to myself.
I carry it into the night.
I walk and there's a fire but it's at my back.
Three days of heavy rain and there's still coals.