Friday, October 29, 2010
and as soon as she was here
She was gone,
My heart appeared, made a special
comeback
For a second,
For a moment.
Well, you son of a bitch,
Your grip has loosened.
You used to be so much stronger but
The
Distance has been wearing.
She was here and then she wasn't,
Simple, predictable pattern.
They were there now they aren't, who ever they are.
Truth is,
Friends are rarely friends,
Lovers rarely love.
The best thing to do is become conditioned to the elements.
Don't let that son of a bitch jerk you around in there,
Lock him out
And give those 'friends' and 'lovers' the key
Just to make sure he never gets back in.
She was gone,
My heart appeared, made a special
comeback
For a second,
For a moment.
Well, you son of a bitch,
Your grip has loosened.
You used to be so much stronger but
The
Distance has been wearing.
She was here and then she wasn't,
Simple, predictable pattern.
They were there now they aren't, who ever they are.
Truth is,
Friends are rarely friends,
Lovers rarely love.
The best thing to do is become conditioned to the elements.
Don't let that son of a bitch jerk you around in there,
Lock him out
And give those 'friends' and 'lovers' the key
Just to make sure he never gets back in.
Lyrics
I've got problems, man
I need to borrow some cash,
I've got problems, man
I need to get out of here fast
Now I'm hanging on a cross because I thought my brothers were
My brothers,
I never thought for the life of me we would have turned like this on
Eachother
I feel used and betrayed,
Thrown under the train,
We left eachother behind but I'm keeping the stage name
Because
I just need to know a band from here can make it,
While we've been trying so hard just to fake it.
I've been double crossed,
And I wish these walls could talk,
Because I still find it hard to believe
My best friends turned out to be my greatest enemies
I need to borrow some cash,
I've got problems, man
I need to get out of here fast
Now I'm hanging on a cross because I thought my brothers were
My brothers,
I never thought for the life of me we would have turned like this on
Eachother
I feel used and betrayed,
Thrown under the train,
We left eachother behind but I'm keeping the stage name
Because
I just need to know a band from here can make it,
While we've been trying so hard just to fake it.
I've been double crossed,
And I wish these walls could talk,
Because I still find it hard to believe
My best friends turned out to be my greatest enemies
Monday, October 25, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
well,
the 'love' was really nothing more than
a
broken trophy.
her heart,
just kind of a bending
branch.
reaching,
screaming for the
ground.
C'mon relax, baby.
roll back those
shoulders
and spread
those wings. (legs.)
while
the day and the dream lingers
like a thin fog
I
notice where the sun hits
and
where it doesn't ,
handing out shadows like gifts
and giving us our
shady figures,
it's beginning to feel like a
holiday. - maybe.
the neon
open signs down richmond
shine,
guiding stars
fighting through
the thin
lingering fog.
your eyes are open
and you know that
stop ignoring it
embrace it.
stop running away,
you runaway.
the fires been started,
now listen to the dogs fight.
the 'love' was really nothing more than
a
broken trophy.
her heart,
just kind of a bending
branch.
reaching,
screaming for the
ground.
C'mon relax, baby.
roll back those
shoulders
and spread
those wings. (legs.)
while
the day and the dream lingers
like a thin fog
I
notice where the sun hits
and
where it doesn't ,
handing out shadows like gifts
and giving us our
shady figures,
it's beginning to feel like a
holiday. - maybe.
the neon
open signs down richmond
shine,
guiding stars
fighting through
the thin
lingering fog.
your eyes are open
and you know that
stop ignoring it
embrace it.
stop running away,
you runaway.
the fires been started,
now listen to the dogs fight.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I confused the bar lights for halos.
They made a bitch look like an angel,
She really knew how to
Play all the angles.
She had a laugh that cracked like a fire.
My arm is broken.
I'm 24.
I'm usually waiting.
Always waiting.
Never committing,
Never deciding,
Telling you and myself not to care.
Change? For suckers. Trying? Suckers.
Suckers.
All of them.
One day she'll send me back to god,
And maybe he can tell me what I want.
But for now I'll wait with the devil and the drinks
And let myself get confussed and blame it
All on the lighting.
They made a bitch look like an angel,
She really knew how to
Play all the angles.
She had a laugh that cracked like a fire.
My arm is broken.
I'm 24.
I'm usually waiting.
Always waiting.
Never committing,
Never deciding,
Telling you and myself not to care.
Change? For suckers. Trying? Suckers.
Suckers.
All of them.
One day she'll send me back to god,
And maybe he can tell me what I want.
But for now I'll wait with the devil and the drinks
And let myself get confussed and blame it
All on the lighting.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Caarver
Digs at your heart like a pick axe.
No afternoons should be spent with red wine and a pick axe.
No,
Not in this state atleast.
Carver you gloomy bastard.
No,
Fante,
John is the way to go.
No nothing fits better
With the sun struggling to fill the pages
Through the slits in the blinds at 2:30
(third glass of..)
Then that son of a bitch
Bandini.
Bukouski just makes you want to
Quit and fight
But
Fante,
Bandini,
Allows the day to swim by
Like a dream.
And when you wake up,
Still broke
Still broken
Still here,
Your heart is still in tact,
And your face isn't busted,
And sure you may have to go out for more wine
But
At least you made it through Tuesday.
For some reason.
Digs at your heart like a pick axe.
No afternoons should be spent with red wine and a pick axe.
No,
Not in this state atleast.
Carver you gloomy bastard.
No,
Fante,
John is the way to go.
No nothing fits better
With the sun struggling to fill the pages
Through the slits in the blinds at 2:30
(third glass of..)
Then that son of a bitch
Bandini.
Bukouski just makes you want to
Quit and fight
But
Fante,
Bandini,
Allows the day to swim by
Like a dream.
And when you wake up,
Still broke
Still broken
Still here,
Your heart is still in tact,
And your face isn't busted,
And sure you may have to go out for more wine
But
At least you made it through Tuesday.
For some reason.
Drunk yada yada yada typewriter
hello television
my glowing, one sided friend.
you can talk and talk and tell
me all about your stories
and characters,
but you won't give me a cigarette,
and you won't buy me a drink,
and even though I'm quite
content on listening and not talking,
I really want that drink.
hello television
my glowing, one sided friend.
you can talk and talk and tell
me all about your stories
and characters,
but you won't give me a cigarette,
and you won't buy me a drink,
and even though I'm quite
content on listening and not talking,
I really want that drink.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Drunk things from my typewriter, from whenever ago
it has nothing to do with her
or my interest with her
or, more importantly my
interest with anyone else
it's just not in me,
my soul
left me for something else years
ago, probably
on a dog walk
or with my first girlfriend
or before my mom met that fat lunatic
or when my own father left me for a
another life beter then this.
innocence is given to you,
and others take it away-
it's never lost, someone steals it
and once it's gone you think you can steal
someones to get it back but you can't,
you just push yours further away
some silly fucked up cycle
that never gets better..
you can only see it in others
when you don't have it yourself
it has nothing to do with her
or my interest with her
or, more importantly my
interest with anyone else
it's just not in me,
my soul
left me for something else years
ago, probably
on a dog walk
or with my first girlfriend
or before my mom met that fat lunatic
or when my own father left me for a
another life beter then this.
innocence is given to you,
and others take it away-
it's never lost, someone steals it
and once it's gone you think you can steal
someones to get it back but you can't,
you just push yours further away
some silly fucked up cycle
that never gets better..
you can only see it in others
when you don't have it yourself
Drunk things from my typewriter
i'm sick of sex
and fucking, and even more
sick of being so sick of it
the only time i can give a good fuck
anymore is when i'm drunk
and that is a very delicate dance
between too many and not enough
now i feel old and creppid and lose
and falling apart like
a side table or a beaten down
family man without the family
and you can call
the beer left in the fridge lucky
runaways,
and you can call me
whatever you want.
just not whenever
you want.
i'm sick of sex
and fucking, and even more
sick of being so sick of it
the only time i can give a good fuck
anymore is when i'm drunk
and that is a very delicate dance
between too many and not enough
now i feel old and creppid and lose
and falling apart like
a side table or a beaten down
family man without the family
and you can call
the beer left in the fridge lucky
runaways,
and you can call me
whatever you want.
just not whenever
you want.
I'm probably not asking
The right
Questions.
Fuck it.
Fuck it they just want attention.
If not from me
Then
From
You.
If not from you then
Your older brother
Or
Your father
Or best friend will
Do just fine.
Commitment is like a
Spider web,
Strong enough to catch
The weak ones
(yum)
But the smart know
Where to look
And the strong
We just
Fly
Right
Through.
The right
Questions.
Fuck it.
Fuck it they just want attention.
If not from me
Then
From
You.
If not from you then
Your older brother
Or
Your father
Or best friend will
Do just fine.
Commitment is like a
Spider web,
Strong enough to catch
The weak ones
(yum)
But the smart know
Where to look
And the strong
We just
Fly
Right
Through.
big sleep
some girls need to be pointed
in the right direction
some boys are nothing but
crudely drawn maps
and i swear my 20s feel like
nothing more then a broken compass
and something like bad timing mixed with something like not trying
but
i'm lying
when i say i want things to change
(that's why i keep fucking up my own escape)
some girls need to be pointed
in the right direction
some boys are nothing but
crudely drawn maps
and i swear my 20s feel like
nothing more then a broken compass
and something like bad timing mixed with something like not trying
but
i'm lying
when i say i want things to change
(that's why i keep fucking up my own escape)
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Did a couple lines,
Had some fun with the steak knives,
Started as a fist fight,
Stared as a good time
And it looks like Jesse just fucked her,
And for a minute I almost feel bad for her
Because he came out laughing
And she came our wearing his
T-shirt,
But then I remembered.
The slut thinks she's a princess,
Shes trying so hard to run shit.
She only ever causes problems at the parties,
She bends at the hips and always
Ends up starring at the ceiling.
No, I don't feel bad for girls like these.
I'm sure secondplace feels pretty comfortable
By now.
Had some fun with the steak knives,
Started as a fist fight,
Stared as a good time
And it looks like Jesse just fucked her,
And for a minute I almost feel bad for her
Because he came out laughing
And she came our wearing his
T-shirt,
But then I remembered.
The slut thinks she's a princess,
Shes trying so hard to run shit.
She only ever causes problems at the parties,
She bends at the hips and always
Ends up starring at the ceiling.
No, I don't feel bad for girls like these.
I'm sure secondplace feels pretty comfortable
By now.
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