(no subject)
I watched you taking off.
Meaning is sometimes hard to spot. It begins with the flickering of cigarettes, in the darkness of a dorm room, somewhere in the suffocated mid-west. And if this is real then I was mistaken, and if there is truth then why can't we find it? Beauty comes to those who have been waiting for something bigger than themselves. This is the sound of the hopeless kids as they scream from the basements of the houses of their parents. And this is the sound of the hopeless ones as they stare down at their books and realize they have been lied to. But if this is real then I was mistaken and the vision fades as quickly as it came. Consistency like that which I have craved, is that people change so unexpectedly. And the realization finds you in a drunken airport (some planes depart and others never arrived). So with this in mind I don't plan on waiting, if its time to leave and break these old ties. Without something else this vision is fading, but until the pain will make us try. But this is the hope I have been searching for, as the wings catch the sunlight of this cold Nebraska skyline. This is the dream I am dying in. I will wake to find tomorrow, be content without perfection. But if this is real then I was mistaken. And if the vision is gone then I was not aware.
Meaning is sometimes hard to spot. It begins with the flickering of cigarettes, in the darkness of a dorm room, somewhere in the suffocated mid-west. And if this is real then I was mistaken, and if there is truth then why can't we find it? Beauty comes to those who have been waiting for something bigger than themselves. This is the sound of the hopeless kids as they scream from the basements of the houses of their parents. And this is the sound of the hopeless ones as they stare down at their books and realize they have been lied to. But if this is real then I was mistaken and the vision fades as quickly as it came. Consistency like that which I have craved, is that people change so unexpectedly. And the realization finds you in a drunken airport (some planes depart and others never arrived). So with this in mind I don't plan on waiting, if its time to leave and break these old ties. Without something else this vision is fading, but until the pain will make us try. But this is the hope I have been searching for, as the wings catch the sunlight of this cold Nebraska skyline. This is the dream I am dying in. I will wake to find tomorrow, be content without perfection. But if this is real then I was mistaken. And if the vision is gone then I was not aware.