iLoveYouWithaKnife
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2002
- Messages
- 8,351
And to think
we could escape.
Claim a state,
and we shall call it our own.
Have a song, already picked out
That we will blare on the stereo,
in the U-haul.
Only this one has no tape deck.
But, Tracy Chapman's word's
will ring in my mind
as we drive away from this town.
Fast car..................
As fast away as we can get,
and, as far away, together.
anything that will take us miles away.
somehow, we will be back.
And really-
I hate the ARMY,
for making me drive back
that Friday.
brought us close to death,
or close to me, anyhow.
I wonder what you think about it now.
I apologize to you,
for witnessing that.
I wouldn't wish that-
upon anyone
at all.
That was such a fucked up time.
And only if we could go back
and pick out the best couch.
That suits us best.
Take $900 and go to Pinache,
The one that's us.
Comfortable and blue.
And our kitty would stay awake those nights,
cause he could sense those fights.
And just like me and you,
he didn't want to go to sleep alone.
None of us wanted to go to sleep
until it was all resolved.
But the future took place there,
and showed us,
that sometimes that doesn't happen.
And we come back later
to yet, another town that conquored us.
And we'll push that big blue couch
out that big window,
in the town in Vermont,
that counquored us first.
Back up that U-haul
and I'll hang on as long as I can
out that second story window,
as long as you can catch it.
But little did we know,
there'd be a couple more years....
for that couch to take the fall
just like the both of us did.
And time times course...
I'll push
that couch somewhere else,
that I shall call home.
Without you. Finally.
Nothing else, but my cd's
and guitar you bought for me.
And if I could only tell you
how many lonely nights it got me through
you'd be so proud.
That I just didn't give up,
like in Vermont.
While you cooked dinner
and I sat in front of that big window,
playing Eric Clapton,
fucking up,
saying how much guitar sucked.
And how much more I did,
because I missed a note.
But I never gave up.
Because of you.
And now all I have let,
is a couch I haven't seen in over a year.
But is being taken care of.
That i will get back soon.
And this beautiful guitar,
with bad strings.
That haven't been changed,
since I took that trip,
with another love of mine,
to Northeast Philly.
But they play just fine,
fine enough for me,
to get out the chords and structure,
that I need to sing.
And need to be heard.
we could escape.
Claim a state,
and we shall call it our own.
Have a song, already picked out
That we will blare on the stereo,
in the U-haul.
Only this one has no tape deck.
But, Tracy Chapman's word's
will ring in my mind
as we drive away from this town.
Fast car..................
As fast away as we can get,
and, as far away, together.
anything that will take us miles away.
somehow, we will be back.
And really-
I hate the ARMY,
for making me drive back
that Friday.
brought us close to death,
or close to me, anyhow.
I wonder what you think about it now.
I apologize to you,
for witnessing that.
I wouldn't wish that-
upon anyone
at all.
That was such a fucked up time.
And only if we could go back
and pick out the best couch.
That suits us best.
Take $900 and go to Pinache,
The one that's us.
Comfortable and blue.
And our kitty would stay awake those nights,
cause he could sense those fights.
And just like me and you,
he didn't want to go to sleep alone.
None of us wanted to go to sleep
until it was all resolved.
But the future took place there,
and showed us,
that sometimes that doesn't happen.
And we come back later
to yet, another town that conquored us.
And we'll push that big blue couch
out that big window,
in the town in Vermont,
that counquored us first.
Back up that U-haul
and I'll hang on as long as I can
out that second story window,
as long as you can catch it.
But little did we know,
there'd be a couple more years....
for that couch to take the fall
just like the both of us did.
And time times course...
I'll push
that couch somewhere else,
that I shall call home.
Without you. Finally.
Nothing else, but my cd's
and guitar you bought for me.
And if I could only tell you
how many lonely nights it got me through
you'd be so proud.
That I just didn't give up,
like in Vermont.
While you cooked dinner
and I sat in front of that big window,
playing Eric Clapton,
fucking up,
saying how much guitar sucked.
And how much more I did,
because I missed a note.
But I never gave up.
Because of you.
And now all I have let,
is a couch I haven't seen in over a year.
But is being taken care of.
That i will get back soon.
And this beautiful guitar,
with bad strings.
That haven't been changed,
since I took that trip,
with another love of mine,
to Northeast Philly.
But they play just fine,
fine enough for me,
to get out the chords and structure,
that I need to sing.
And need to be heard.
