2005 was, though turbulent, one of my favorites ( Read more... )

Watching her Strolling in the night So white Wondering why ( Read more... )

Love is but the song we sing ( Read more... )

She turned away, what was she looking at ( Read more... )

It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe ( Read more... )

Like coming home
And you don’t know where you’ve been
Like black coffee
Like nicotine

When the night has no end
And the day yet to begin
As the room spins around

Like a phoenix rising
Needs a holy tree
Like the sweet revenge
Of a bitter enemy

Like the heat needs the sun
Like honey on her tongue
Like the muzzle of a gun
Like oxygen

Spend more time swinging on the swings at the park.

Many’s the time I’ve been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
Oh, but I’m alright, I’m alright
I’m just weary to my bones
Still, you don’t expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far a-way from home, so far away from home

-Paul Simon

Fuckin up my christmas is a new way of saying fuckin up my shit
This is not so much a holliday oriented song
As it is an exclamation of dismay at the sight of a beautiful woman

I see it shining on the sun
A road that leads beyond this place
A way to push aside the walls that block our path
If time can truly be a lie
There's nothing left but you and I
Denying everything and shattering the glass

Take me away I can't deny it
And all that I want is to touch the sky
Show me the way a simple mind
And no one can say it can't be