I think we have an emergency
I can tell you of my adventures,
starting from this morning.
Depending on what O' clock we start,
I can recount them all.
My phone is on silent.
Hesitance.
I don't want you to fall.
But I'm not going to catch you.
I'm listening to Lisa Loeb tell me of her apprehensions.
Paramore lamenting their hearts.
Queen's to me.
"This isn't what you wanted."
Since when was it about what I wanted.
I am the hero of my own story.
A story I have to get around to writing.
Bright yellow lights.
Over exposures.
Failed emulsions.
Wrong film.
Hallelujiah.
Hallelujiah.
Hallelujiah.
I like that word.
"I'll write you to let you know.
That I'm alright.
So here we go again.
With all the things we said.
And not a minute spent.
To think that we regret.
So we just take it back."
The song is better for it's beat and the last 30 seconds of:
So we just take it back.
Whoa
Flip Flop, cinnimon and brown sugar
My breakfast
2:30 to 8, no time
Not known for revelational lyrics, but good at telling the truth.
"And I'll confess that I can be alittle selfish,
And I'll admit I don't want you to help me through this."
Simple.
Now to take back my Sunday.
And save the day.
To the sound of guns and throwing roses.
Playing in the cold.
The sounds of violence.
Before we know it, it'll be Thursday.
And there'll be secrets between me and the buried.
Secrets of acceptance,
and ghost anatomnys.
Blind and without guardians
we'll go away from here.
Following the white lights that never seem to end.
The anniversary won't be celebrated.
How in1979, death came from above.
The faint of heart didn't survive.
Deaths came by murder.
November came early.
Blossoms fell drunk with gin.
And we live.