[K-run] Lissa's Song - NYC - fall of 2000
[ooc note: remember that memories are tricky things and sometimes we remember things in a given way to justify our hurt]
Tina says don't talk to me like I'm deaf and dumb
We've broken down and broken up so much that I am nub
Talk about--don't shout about--the people we've become
There's a little girl who's crying over here
"What do you mean you're a mafia princess?!? Are you fucking crazy?!?!"
The words hung in the air. The hurt flashed across her face.
He realized his mistake the minute he saw her face.
You broke Rule #1, dumbass. Thou Shalt Not Judge.
Michael says don't shout at me like I was born a fool
You speak of love and scream of love now dar to treat me cruel
Nothing's fair in love and war so please let's make some rules
There's a little boy who's crying over here
"Well, you told me you were well off. That you had a job."
"I do. And it doesn't involve wacking people!"
"You don't have a job. You're fucking homeless! You didn't even finish high school!"
He stared...waiting for it...parry, riposte, defend...he couldn't. He let the blow land...
Did you ever know me?
I swear that I have tried
Did you ever need me?
I feel like I have died
Did you ever want me?
I swear that I have tried
How do you tell someone you don't love them?
How do you tell someone you don't care anymore?
How do you tell someone you don't love them anymore?
"You're not even important. And you certainly aren't good enough for me."
His eyes widened even though he had expected it.
Just words. Just angry words. Don't say it. Don't defend. Don't counterattack.
"At least I'm not a whore."
Flawless. Victory. Insert 25 cents to continue.
Tina says the pictures that we took are put away
Inside a box of memories for cold and reainy days
Poems in pencil rhyming with the things you'd never say
There's a little girl who's crying over here
He ran across the city, eyes blurred.
Why are you so stupid, Kyle?
Onto the rooftop.
Down the fire escape.
Into the apartment. Threadbare. Bed. Couch. Kitchen table. Three suits in the closet.
Small parcel on the bed..
He changed into the suit.
He entered the Lie for the last time.
Michael's old engagement picture's in a wooden box
His wooden heart is tough as nails and solid as a rock
Keeps himself protected with a combination lock
There's a little boy who's crying over here
The weight in the pocket of his suit threatened to drag him down. The weight in his heart took his words away. He looked at the man, the kindly man who had taken a chance on him.
"I'm sorry Mr. Susko. I don't think I'm cut out for the investment field. Don't worry about a last check...least I can do for the short notice."
He turned and walked out. Shoulders slumped.
Beaten.
Rule number two: Not everything in life is a fight.
Fighting makes me tired/in my eyes crying makes me tired
There's a spy hurting makes me tired/hold me tight lying makes me tired
The Fung Wah rumbled its way to Boston. Three suits and a bit of furniture got him a bus ticket, a second hand jacket, and a couple of burgers.
He stared out the window as mothers calmed screaming children, the driver sang along to a tape player duct taped to the dash, and that girl with Tourette's made noises in her sleep.
Face it. This is a solitary road. And your mistake was looking for company on the trip.
Tina says I wish that I had never seen your smile
Your name is written on my soul in alphabetic file
All I've got's my dignity so I will leave in style
There's a million of us crying over here
He walked through Harvard Square and watched people go by.
People are the blood of the city. And I'm just a fucking clot that needs to be dealt with. Have to be. She said so.
He sat on the bench for a day and a half before the large man came walking up to him. The man took off his glasses nervously and cleaned them before speaking.
"Hello...my name is Iovis...but folks call me Jove. Are you new to the Consillium of Boston?"
Punch him. Kick in his teeth. Take his wallet and get yourself a place to sleep.
Fight.
Run. He wants to duel you. You're too young. Too untrained.
Flee.
"Yeah...just passing through. I'm Dey-u. But folks call me K-run."
"Where are you going?"
"No idea."
"Where are you coming from?"
"Bottom of the Marianas Trench."
"Hrm. Sounds like you could use some food and an ear."
"Food...yes. Ear...maybe later."
"Well...my Cabal's Sanctum is over this way..."
Rule number three: Not every problem is solved by magic. Sometimes the best solution is to embrace your humanity.
Any time aI talk you you there's no one listening every time
I reach for you there's no one there and everywhere I look for you,
You're no where to be found
Many years later...
He placed the small plastic statue of the Leaning Tower on the newly cleaned shelf and chuckled. Even with OCD running rampant, Jove had left it alone. The tower rattled as he placed it on the shelf, a reminder of mistakes and loss.
A few years before...
"Jove, I need a favor. If anything ever happens to me...take that plastic Tower of Pisa and give it to a mage called Sevens. She'll know who it's from."
Tina says don't talk to me like I'm deaf and dumb
We've broken down and broken up so much that I am nub
Talk about--don't shout about--the people we've become
There's a little girl who's crying over here
"What do you mean you're a mafia princess?!? Are you fucking crazy?!?!"
The words hung in the air. The hurt flashed across her face.
He realized his mistake the minute he saw her face.
You broke Rule #1, dumbass. Thou Shalt Not Judge.
Michael says don't shout at me like I was born a fool
You speak of love and scream of love now dar to treat me cruel
Nothing's fair in love and war so please let's make some rules
There's a little boy who's crying over here
"Well, you told me you were well off. That you had a job."
"I do. And it doesn't involve wacking people!"
"You don't have a job. You're fucking homeless! You didn't even finish high school!"
He stared...waiting for it...parry, riposte, defend...he couldn't. He let the blow land...
Did you ever know me?
I swear that I have tried
Did you ever need me?
I feel like I have died
Did you ever want me?
I swear that I have tried
How do you tell someone you don't love them?
How do you tell someone you don't care anymore?
How do you tell someone you don't love them anymore?
"You're not even important. And you certainly aren't good enough for me."
His eyes widened even though he had expected it.
Just words. Just angry words. Don't say it. Don't defend. Don't counterattack.
"At least I'm not a whore."
Flawless. Victory. Insert 25 cents to continue.
Tina says the pictures that we took are put away
Inside a box of memories for cold and reainy days
Poems in pencil rhyming with the things you'd never say
There's a little girl who's crying over here
He ran across the city, eyes blurred.
Why are you so stupid, Kyle?
Onto the rooftop.
Down the fire escape.
Into the apartment. Threadbare. Bed. Couch. Kitchen table. Three suits in the closet.
Small parcel on the bed..
He changed into the suit.
He entered the Lie for the last time.
Michael's old engagement picture's in a wooden box
His wooden heart is tough as nails and solid as a rock
Keeps himself protected with a combination lock
There's a little boy who's crying over here
The weight in the pocket of his suit threatened to drag him down. The weight in his heart took his words away. He looked at the man, the kindly man who had taken a chance on him.
"I'm sorry Mr. Susko. I don't think I'm cut out for the investment field. Don't worry about a last check...least I can do for the short notice."
He turned and walked out. Shoulders slumped.
Beaten.
Rule number two: Not everything in life is a fight.
Fighting makes me tired/in my eyes crying makes me tired
There's a spy hurting makes me tired/hold me tight lying makes me tired
The Fung Wah rumbled its way to Boston. Three suits and a bit of furniture got him a bus ticket, a second hand jacket, and a couple of burgers.
He stared out the window as mothers calmed screaming children, the driver sang along to a tape player duct taped to the dash, and that girl with Tourette's made noises in her sleep.
Face it. This is a solitary road. And your mistake was looking for company on the trip.
Tina says I wish that I had never seen your smile
Your name is written on my soul in alphabetic file
All I've got's my dignity so I will leave in style
There's a million of us crying over here
He walked through Harvard Square and watched people go by.
People are the blood of the city. And I'm just a fucking clot that needs to be dealt with. Have to be. She said so.
He sat on the bench for a day and a half before the large man came walking up to him. The man took off his glasses nervously and cleaned them before speaking.
"Hello...my name is Iovis...but folks call me Jove. Are you new to the Consillium of Boston?"
Punch him. Kick in his teeth. Take his wallet and get yourself a place to sleep.
Fight.
Run. He wants to duel you. You're too young. Too untrained.
Flee.
"Yeah...just passing through. I'm Dey-u. But folks call me K-run."
"Where are you going?"
"No idea."
"Where are you coming from?"
"Bottom of the Marianas Trench."
"Hrm. Sounds like you could use some food and an ear."
"Food...yes. Ear...maybe later."
"Well...my Cabal's Sanctum is over this way..."
Rule number three: Not every problem is solved by magic. Sometimes the best solution is to embrace your humanity.
Any time aI talk you you there's no one listening every time
I reach for you there's no one there and everywhere I look for you,
You're no where to be found
Many years later...
He placed the small plastic statue of the Leaning Tower on the newly cleaned shelf and chuckled. Even with OCD running rampant, Jove had left it alone. The tower rattled as he placed it on the shelf, a reminder of mistakes and loss.
A few years before...
"Jove, I need a favor. If anything ever happens to me...take that plastic Tower of Pisa and give it to a mage called Sevens. She'll know who it's from."