finally an honest song...
MEMORY AND APPRECIATION
-----------------------
oh, im stuck here crying tears that dont mean a thing.
theyre leaving little streaks over the hills of my cheeks,
little rivers of sadness and hopeless anxiety
and i want to float away, join their watery escape.
i remember when i used to cut
anger into my arm,
carving out some little holes
where i could hide my fears.
and i remember being curled
up beneath my bed,
silver blade against my throat
and a plan to end the tears.
i remember happiness
in knowing nothing at all.
spending endless twilight moments
atop rusted monkey bars,
greeting cool autumn breezes
as the sun made its fall,
i seemed untouched by everything
except nights without my stars.
the day my childhood choked on its last living breath
i began a downward spiral, heading toward my death.
now nothing seems as beautiful as a night away from truth,
a vacation to my dreams, a revisiting of my youth.
after every detail of lifes procession,
today i see myself in pathetic reflection
of an average poet, stuck on an obsession
with his own sadness and final recession.
he couldnt live a day without the love of his friends
who will always make him happy through until the end
even if hes unable to sufficiently tell them
how theyve made his sad life worth living all again.
-----------------------
oh, im stuck here crying tears that dont mean a thing.
theyre leaving little streaks over the hills of my cheeks,
little rivers of sadness and hopeless anxiety
and i want to float away, join their watery escape.
i remember when i used to cut
anger into my arm,
carving out some little holes
where i could hide my fears.
and i remember being curled
up beneath my bed,
silver blade against my throat
and a plan to end the tears.
i remember happiness
in knowing nothing at all.
spending endless twilight moments
atop rusted monkey bars,
greeting cool autumn breezes
as the sun made its fall,
i seemed untouched by everything
except nights without my stars.
the day my childhood choked on its last living breath
i began a downward spiral, heading toward my death.
now nothing seems as beautiful as a night away from truth,
a vacation to my dreams, a revisiting of my youth.
after every detail of lifes procession,
today i see myself in pathetic reflection
of an average poet, stuck on an obsession
with his own sadness and final recession.
he couldnt live a day without the love of his friends
who will always make him happy through until the end
even if hes unable to sufficiently tell them
how theyve made his sad life worth living all again.