I could sing you an awful song,
On some guitar I don’t even own.
In my mangled, cracking voice
About the beautiful things I used to see in you.
Truth to be told, I can’t whimper a single note,
Without adding the unpleasant suffix of a cough.
To raise a note to the thought of you, seems childish at best.
A fruitless effort,
A worthless expense.
As you tip your hat to the passers by,
A wink and a nod, a trustful boy.
You’ve kept your secret, my dear.
You always did.
You pillar…
And ultimately,
You joke.
A little spot of humor I could have lived without.
It’s a little drafty in here.
A sweet warm breeze that summer expelled through my windows
A slightly chilled reminder of the warmth I held in you.
And that chill you left behind.
Everything I felt failed.
But I could only retaliate with a wry little smile
And try to convince you that the down-turned corners of my lips,
Really define happiness.
We'd go sailing in my dreams sometimes.
I could see you on the beach,
But you’re not watching me,
And I’m not surprised.
I never was.
You never could satiate me with words,
But how full I was,
With the void in your actions.
Seems I got used to the acting.
Seems the parade became natural.
So I marched along, expecting a little less than nothing at all.
Love it, leave it, go on.
Always, going on.
Used up with a greedy speed.
And this boy, he comes along.
Held open the door.
Spoke to me.
Laughed with me.
Left with a single hug, a phone number, minus assumption.
And there I was, shocked.
Respected.
Nearly insulted by this display.
Until I realized how he had just single-handedly
Defined the asshole
In every previous tryst I had ever sunk my hands into.
I finally took notice of the lack of congruence,
Between your words and my reality.
Your day life,
My night life,
And the verbal silence therein.
Surely not the start of a whirlwind romance,
Or any such silly notion.
Just an end to this song I so often tried to sing out.
When my silent cries on my invisible guitar,
So predictably fell on deaf ears.
The acoustics, you know,
Were never that great anyhow...
[ 15 July 2002: Message edited by: drea ]
[ 15 July 2002: Message edited by: drea ]
On some guitar I don’t even own.
In my mangled, cracking voice
About the beautiful things I used to see in you.
Truth to be told, I can’t whimper a single note,
Without adding the unpleasant suffix of a cough.
To raise a note to the thought of you, seems childish at best.
A fruitless effort,
A worthless expense.
As you tip your hat to the passers by,
A wink and a nod, a trustful boy.
You’ve kept your secret, my dear.
You always did.
You pillar…
And ultimately,
You joke.
A little spot of humor I could have lived without.
It’s a little drafty in here.
A sweet warm breeze that summer expelled through my windows
A slightly chilled reminder of the warmth I held in you.
And that chill you left behind.
Everything I felt failed.
But I could only retaliate with a wry little smile
And try to convince you that the down-turned corners of my lips,
Really define happiness.
We'd go sailing in my dreams sometimes.
I could see you on the beach,
But you’re not watching me,
And I’m not surprised.
I never was.
You never could satiate me with words,
But how full I was,
With the void in your actions.
Seems I got used to the acting.
Seems the parade became natural.
So I marched along, expecting a little less than nothing at all.
Love it, leave it, go on.
Always, going on.
Used up with a greedy speed.
And this boy, he comes along.
Held open the door.
Spoke to me.
Laughed with me.
Left with a single hug, a phone number, minus assumption.
And there I was, shocked.
Respected.
Nearly insulted by this display.
Until I realized how he had just single-handedly
Defined the asshole
In every previous tryst I had ever sunk my hands into.
I finally took notice of the lack of congruence,
Between your words and my reality.
Your day life,
My night life,
And the verbal silence therein.
Surely not the start of a whirlwind romance,
Or any such silly notion.
Just an end to this song I so often tried to sing out.
When my silent cries on my invisible guitar,
So predictably fell on deaf ears.
The acoustics, you know,
Were never that great anyhow...
[ 15 July 2002: Message edited by: drea ]
[ 15 July 2002: Message edited by: drea ]
