(no subject)
fuck yeah i am still holding on
making mountains out of molehills
trading moments in for memories
these days still mean everything to me
days that could've so easily been ignored by you
so many hours through scorching desert
man, how can i say this without sounding like some cheesy
Motley Crue song?
so much of what we do driven by thoughts of you
some names we'll never know
your smiling, imperfect faces helping us along
"are we almost there?"
for thirty minutes while the whole world exists only
in your eyes and war cries
so much of our lives driven by thoughts of you
and you and you there way in the back
could it really be?
still cannot believe that it's true...
part of your day spent thinking of us
waiting (just like i used to) for us to show up,
plug in, and share with you our hearts
and that twenty-hour drive turns into nothing at all
and for that we must
thank you
out on the road little boys let their beards grow
oh so busy talking about the things that we don't know
all done worrying about the things we used to be
(i'm too busy finding out what i'm gonna be)
and finding weapons of mass destruction
to combat this boredom that claws at my eyes, my ears
no longer can i worry about whether these words
have touched you or failed you...
fuck, you're too busy bitching about
clothes that do not fit
"so play the violins"
i'll keep getting in the van
worry about money for the rest of my life
just so that you can have this to talk about
our time is to spend time with you
and if you don't want it well that's fine too
walk right out that door
this room was growing cold with you
this room that is my home
and i cannot
and i must not
and i will not
let clean shaven boys that all look the same
toss hand grenades into this my faith
your garbage it is growing
and your weapons and rebellions
were charged on daddy's card
to all your baffled looks
we didn't choose to do this the hard way
but we scream our lungs and we raise our glasses
to all the girls, and all the boys
with the first five minutes of a war always at their sides
(and like the man said...)
"i fall asleep with pen in hand there's something
you should know"
and all your guts and all your goals
came in the shiny promo package
knew how this would end before you bled for the beginning
strike a pose
so when you get off your happy little bus
with your happy little smiles
with your happy little instruments that never go out of tune
we will be fucking up and missing words
following you in a van that we had to beg to start
and of course we're fucking angry
and of course we're tired and ugly
it's not all a sunny Sunday
(and like the man said...)
"you can take a road that takes you to the stars
i can take a road that will see me through"
all swelled with pride, your chest blown out
face the flag as you declare
"we are the greatest country in the world
richest, smartest, most advanced...
who can keep up with us?"
and where has it gotten us?
take a look around
as miserable as we have ever been
violent, mean, pulling our hair out
as fourteen year olds march through metal detectors
bitter, unhealthy, empty
most dissatisfied of societies
my granddad weeps for the simple days
everything that you could ever dream of
five minutes from our fingertips
prettied, processed, packaged,
shipped right to your door
we need everything in every color
to feel that we're alive
we've got to brag to all the world
about all our toys
just like when we were five
i hear you chant
"everything is alright, it's gonna be alright"
as you rush to your night job
everything is gonna be alright
knuckles white as you grip your purse
you scream that things could not be better
as the flames lick at your face
and i'm as fucked as anybody
the bright lights catch my eyes
i'm as scared as anyone
the blood rains from the sky
we can't tell what we want from what we need
or which one matters more
it's all a spinning mobile
it's all a catchy lullaby
everything is gonna be alright
so suck your thumb
we are only brave enough to fight the battles already won for us
and spend more time with our hair than we do our minds
while the girls and the young and the lost
are kicked off to the side
our armies in fractions because our kings are so foolish
we will never know true victory and are happy just to survive
to live to dance another day
still clinging to those golden - olden days
while our mouths sweep the mess to the back of our minds
nothing ever changing as we all grow older
nothing ever changing as our hearts grow colder
that's what holds us down
we flap our wings but we never leave the ground
the last thing that i want to do right now
is scream one more line
about the words that fall from your mouth
landing somewhere just short of my feet
some long, sad, boring list of let downs
that i have talked about a thousand times before
some spark i thought i saw in you
needed to see in you
wished i could see in you
but was just a damn bluff
i threw away aces and you showed me deuces
the key is having the guts to raise with
the second highest hand
i have spent so much time
folding bad cards and eating my words
i've said some awful things to some real good people
that now i no longer have a problem admitting when i am wrong
and can just sit back and wait for the next deal to come
and if the worst thing in my life
is long-ass rides and hug filled good-byes
and i can still be mystified
by pretty smiles, crushes and mix tapes
then i guess things really aren't so bad
and i have never known much about silver linings
but i can look around this van and see
five faces that breath life into me
kings full of jacks
splash my chips across the table
take my shot
i'm all in
(play the fife lowly)
i just cannot stop
asking why, always why
running and running
wandering and wondering
no matter how many years fly by
screaming "who, what and when"
like some crazed eight year old
who needs to know everything
in a world so filled with nothing
running and running
towards one ounce of proof
things that will not crumble at the slightest touch
you tell me who the hell i'm gonna trust
i can't stand looking at grown-ups
never mind trust them
loud and proud laughing at things that are not funny
chewing happily on what is left
of this cold, gray, flawed world
i just gotta keep right on running
away from it all
towards tears born from lesson
towards dreams instead of dollars
half my age and stupidly brave
'cuz anything is better than lying in some comfortable deathbed
staring into the abyss
as afraid of living as i am of not living
though one time i awoke
and could still feel the cold steel of a sword
that had been thrust into me
("i've gone out the window")
i raise this broken halo to the sky
this is the storm that strands me here
stopped waiting for a golden ship to rescue me
this is the only age that i know how to be
still make pretend that i'm in the movie of my life
stopped looking for a key that opens all the doors
these broken fingers keep me from holding on too tight
i turned and looked away from the angels face
still stomp through puddles - the world spins beneath my feet
stopped waiting for a golden ship to rescue me
never wanted to know just what will happen next
i wonder how you can stand knowing what
each new day will bring
i think about art and i think about madness
are truly joined at the hip?
was it Van Gogh who was crazy or the world that is crazy?
if i could touch the face of the gods i'd trade my ear
i ran all the way home
to read the words carved in cement by my house
(it says) "live the life that you love - love the life that you live"
but i'd rather have a penny for every time it told me "NO"
i shoot these flaming arrows at the flag
and say deny, deny, deny if that's what gets you through
like that night that we ran through the Audi dealership
smashing windshields
an absolutely pointless and immature act
but it quieted our minds
at a time when everyone and everything (the setting sun) was asking:
"why are we here?"
but i'm pretty sure now that i will never know
...and did i mention that there are still those days
where i can hardly lift my head up from the pillow
or looking out the window of the plane
rooting for disaster
sometimes i just run out of reasons
but the clock keeps ticking and the minutes keep coming
and all i can do is rise to slaughter the hours
let the air out of these days
killing time
staring into corners or at strands of her hair
waiting for the call that tells me where to next
wishing i could trade these stupid words
for hollow point shells
before every move that I make equals check-mate
did i just say her?
this song is not for her
no matter what i've said or longed for
or that her name still moves along these walls
lives in this pen
(i've made promises)
this song is for Buk, for 'Trane, for Wes, and for Marty
who keep their barrels oiled and ready
the few that I would trade ten days to spend one hour with
rare like a ruby at the bottom of the sea
beautiful like the sparrow in the kittens jaw
(rumble, young man, rumble)
how many more days will you sit
and talk about your ambitions
all that you can be
the person you are dying to be
the place you want to get to
but always out of reach
before that fury swells inside of you
grows so big that it forever quiets you
stand up to your demons
make a run at your goliath
find the best, find the worst
waiting in both of you
it's not the who or the what that is lasting
but how you fight
that is the fight
the only mark that will not leave you
and i will feel my heart drum its final beat
if it meant that i have given this my all
there's nothing left for me to believe in
if not you, if not this...
what else is there but death?
(it's your call...it's all on you)
give more
give everything
give blood
making mountains out of molehills
trading moments in for memories
these days still mean everything to me
days that could've so easily been ignored by you
so many hours through scorching desert
man, how can i say this without sounding like some cheesy
Motley Crue song?
so much of what we do driven by thoughts of you
some names we'll never know
your smiling, imperfect faces helping us along
"are we almost there?"
for thirty minutes while the whole world exists only
in your eyes and war cries
so much of our lives driven by thoughts of you
and you and you there way in the back
could it really be?
still cannot believe that it's true...
part of your day spent thinking of us
waiting (just like i used to) for us to show up,
plug in, and share with you our hearts
and that twenty-hour drive turns into nothing at all
and for that we must
thank you
out on the road little boys let their beards grow
oh so busy talking about the things that we don't know
all done worrying about the things we used to be
(i'm too busy finding out what i'm gonna be)
and finding weapons of mass destruction
to combat this boredom that claws at my eyes, my ears
no longer can i worry about whether these words
have touched you or failed you...
fuck, you're too busy bitching about
clothes that do not fit
"so play the violins"
i'll keep getting in the van
worry about money for the rest of my life
just so that you can have this to talk about
our time is to spend time with you
and if you don't want it well that's fine too
walk right out that door
this room was growing cold with you
this room that is my home
and i cannot
and i must not
and i will not
let clean shaven boys that all look the same
toss hand grenades into this my faith
your garbage it is growing
and your weapons and rebellions
were charged on daddy's card
to all your baffled looks
we didn't choose to do this the hard way
but we scream our lungs and we raise our glasses
to all the girls, and all the boys
with the first five minutes of a war always at their sides
(and like the man said...)
"i fall asleep with pen in hand there's something
you should know"
and all your guts and all your goals
came in the shiny promo package
knew how this would end before you bled for the beginning
strike a pose
so when you get off your happy little bus
with your happy little smiles
with your happy little instruments that never go out of tune
we will be fucking up and missing words
following you in a van that we had to beg to start
and of course we're fucking angry
and of course we're tired and ugly
it's not all a sunny Sunday
(and like the man said...)
"you can take a road that takes you to the stars
i can take a road that will see me through"
all swelled with pride, your chest blown out
face the flag as you declare
"we are the greatest country in the world
richest, smartest, most advanced...
who can keep up with us?"
and where has it gotten us?
take a look around
as miserable as we have ever been
violent, mean, pulling our hair out
as fourteen year olds march through metal detectors
bitter, unhealthy, empty
most dissatisfied of societies
my granddad weeps for the simple days
everything that you could ever dream of
five minutes from our fingertips
prettied, processed, packaged,
shipped right to your door
we need everything in every color
to feel that we're alive
we've got to brag to all the world
about all our toys
just like when we were five
i hear you chant
"everything is alright, it's gonna be alright"
as you rush to your night job
everything is gonna be alright
knuckles white as you grip your purse
you scream that things could not be better
as the flames lick at your face
and i'm as fucked as anybody
the bright lights catch my eyes
i'm as scared as anyone
the blood rains from the sky
we can't tell what we want from what we need
or which one matters more
it's all a spinning mobile
it's all a catchy lullaby
everything is gonna be alright
so suck your thumb
we are only brave enough to fight the battles already won for us
and spend more time with our hair than we do our minds
while the girls and the young and the lost
are kicked off to the side
our armies in fractions because our kings are so foolish
we will never know true victory and are happy just to survive
to live to dance another day
still clinging to those golden - olden days
while our mouths sweep the mess to the back of our minds
nothing ever changing as we all grow older
nothing ever changing as our hearts grow colder
that's what holds us down
we flap our wings but we never leave the ground
the last thing that i want to do right now
is scream one more line
about the words that fall from your mouth
landing somewhere just short of my feet
some long, sad, boring list of let downs
that i have talked about a thousand times before
some spark i thought i saw in you
needed to see in you
wished i could see in you
but was just a damn bluff
i threw away aces and you showed me deuces
the key is having the guts to raise with
the second highest hand
i have spent so much time
folding bad cards and eating my words
i've said some awful things to some real good people
that now i no longer have a problem admitting when i am wrong
and can just sit back and wait for the next deal to come
and if the worst thing in my life
is long-ass rides and hug filled good-byes
and i can still be mystified
by pretty smiles, crushes and mix tapes
then i guess things really aren't so bad
and i have never known much about silver linings
but i can look around this van and see
five faces that breath life into me
kings full of jacks
splash my chips across the table
take my shot
i'm all in
(play the fife lowly)
i just cannot stop
asking why, always why
running and running
wandering and wondering
no matter how many years fly by
screaming "who, what and when"
like some crazed eight year old
who needs to know everything
in a world so filled with nothing
running and running
towards one ounce of proof
things that will not crumble at the slightest touch
you tell me who the hell i'm gonna trust
i can't stand looking at grown-ups
never mind trust them
loud and proud laughing at things that are not funny
chewing happily on what is left
of this cold, gray, flawed world
i just gotta keep right on running
away from it all
towards tears born from lesson
towards dreams instead of dollars
half my age and stupidly brave
'cuz anything is better than lying in some comfortable deathbed
staring into the abyss
as afraid of living as i am of not living
though one time i awoke
and could still feel the cold steel of a sword
that had been thrust into me
("i've gone out the window")
i raise this broken halo to the sky
this is the storm that strands me here
stopped waiting for a golden ship to rescue me
this is the only age that i know how to be
still make pretend that i'm in the movie of my life
stopped looking for a key that opens all the doors
these broken fingers keep me from holding on too tight
i turned and looked away from the angels face
still stomp through puddles - the world spins beneath my feet
stopped waiting for a golden ship to rescue me
never wanted to know just what will happen next
i wonder how you can stand knowing what
each new day will bring
i think about art and i think about madness
are truly joined at the hip?
was it Van Gogh who was crazy or the world that is crazy?
if i could touch the face of the gods i'd trade my ear
i ran all the way home
to read the words carved in cement by my house
(it says) "live the life that you love - love the life that you live"
but i'd rather have a penny for every time it told me "NO"
i shoot these flaming arrows at the flag
and say deny, deny, deny if that's what gets you through
like that night that we ran through the Audi dealership
smashing windshields
an absolutely pointless and immature act
but it quieted our minds
at a time when everyone and everything (the setting sun) was asking:
"why are we here?"
but i'm pretty sure now that i will never know
...and did i mention that there are still those days
where i can hardly lift my head up from the pillow
or looking out the window of the plane
rooting for disaster
sometimes i just run out of reasons
but the clock keeps ticking and the minutes keep coming
and all i can do is rise to slaughter the hours
let the air out of these days
killing time
staring into corners or at strands of her hair
waiting for the call that tells me where to next
wishing i could trade these stupid words
for hollow point shells
before every move that I make equals check-mate
did i just say her?
this song is not for her
no matter what i've said or longed for
or that her name still moves along these walls
lives in this pen
(i've made promises)
this song is for Buk, for 'Trane, for Wes, and for Marty
who keep their barrels oiled and ready
the few that I would trade ten days to spend one hour with
rare like a ruby at the bottom of the sea
beautiful like the sparrow in the kittens jaw
(rumble, young man, rumble)
how many more days will you sit
and talk about your ambitions
all that you can be
the person you are dying to be
the place you want to get to
but always out of reach
before that fury swells inside of you
grows so big that it forever quiets you
stand up to your demons
make a run at your goliath
find the best, find the worst
waiting in both of you
it's not the who or the what that is lasting
but how you fight
that is the fight
the only mark that will not leave you
and i will feel my heart drum its final beat
if it meant that i have given this my all
there's nothing left for me to believe in
if not you, if not this...
what else is there but death?
(it's your call...it's all on you)
give more
give everything
give blood