Public Post:: Song Sharing
[Song of the Moment:: Rebekah Jordan's Tuesday, 3AM]
This is a song that I've been spending too much time listening to, It's reminding me of somebody who is experiencing something eerily similar to what this song talks about -- or at least that's my slighted view on the situation. It is from the movie 'Latter Days'. I might get around to actually writing down something about the movie for those of you who don't know it well.
Tuesday, Three AM -- Once again I'm wide awake.
Waiting, for time to mend this part of me, that keeps on breaking
Newspapers, I threw away. Washed the dishes in the sink.
Three Am on Tuesday, I have too much time to think.
And I could call up to heaven, or I could crawl down through hell.
Nothing will change the way things are, and nothing ever will.
He thinks I can't hear him cry, and I pretend that I don't know,
or about all the Three AMs he spends wrestlign with your ghost.
I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through Hell,
He still can't get over you. I know he never will.
Nothing he says can bring you back.
He's got nothing left to show.
But a pocket watch and memories of a kiss out in the snow.
And I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through Hell.
He still can't get over you, I know he never will.
I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through Hell.
He still can't get over you, I know he never will.
This is a song that I've been spending too much time listening to, It's reminding me of somebody who is experiencing something eerily similar to what this song talks about -- or at least that's my slighted view on the situation. It is from the movie 'Latter Days'. I might get around to actually writing down something about the movie for those of you who don't know it well.
Tuesday, Three AM -- Once again I'm wide awake.
Waiting, for time to mend this part of me, that keeps on breaking
Newspapers, I threw away. Washed the dishes in the sink.
Three Am on Tuesday, I have too much time to think.
And I could call up to heaven, or I could crawl down through hell.
Nothing will change the way things are, and nothing ever will.
He thinks I can't hear him cry, and I pretend that I don't know,
or about all the Three AMs he spends wrestlign with your ghost.
I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through Hell,
He still can't get over you. I know he never will.
Nothing he says can bring you back.
He's got nothing left to show.
But a pocket watch and memories of a kiss out in the snow.
And I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through Hell.
He still can't get over you, I know he never will.
I hear him call out to heaven, I watch him crawl down through Hell.
He still can't get over you, I know he never will.