Archive for March, 2011

Nothing about nothing….

March 27, 2011

[other]

it’s broken but it works
disappointing in return
half truths in equal measure
the answer is not the answer
dirty looks and compliments
we know which ones they really meant
and I just can’t help
kicking kicking kicking myself

don’t talk, don’t breathe
don’t stop, don’t think
just try for me…

and we might be a little shaky at first
and maybe it’s more than just our nerves
with such big gestures
our failures look like successes
the comfort of chronic fatigue
immediate concerns are of no concern to me
irrational thoughts were made for times such as these

don’t talk, don’t breathe
don’t stop, don’t think
just try for me…

just try for me….

Blessing

March 16, 2011

Give us this day,
our daily dregs,
the sound of hungry dogs,
and a fistful of coal
to kick from one end of the street
to the next.
It is a sad game
of sorts, at best.

Time to forget

March 5, 2011

The hour is upon us
it’s time to forget.

For whisky and defeat,
and speeches we will never give,
of stores & stalks of noble sentiment
that have withered in their moments
and turned to dust unsaid.
Of old loves abandoned
and new love spent
and far too many nights that passed
without pause, only to pass again.

The hour is upon us
it’s time to forget.

Cheap Daydreams, Vol. 1 & 2

March 2, 2011

Bored Awake

If I’m bored, I must be awake
they’re calling out for blood, and that’s what they expect
I gave you a warning, under my breath
I gave you a warning, in my head…

You’re talking with your hands, and it’s keeping me awake
we are creatures of habit, so many habits we have to tame
I gave you a warning, in my head
I gave you a warning, under my breath

There’s nothing wrong with talking just to talk
there’s nothing wrong with talking to the walls
there’s nothing wrong with talking just to talk
there’s nothing wrong with talking to the walls

on and on and on and on and on…
on and on and on and on and on…

There’s a full moon out tonight, and I’m half asleep
you’re talking with your hands, and I can’t hear myself think
I gave you a warning, you ran away instead
I gave you a warning, under my breath

There’s nothing wrong with talking to the walls
there’s nothing wrong with talking just to talk
there’s nothing wrong with talking just to talk
there’s nothing wrong with talking to the walls

on and on and on and on and on….
on and on and on and on and on….
on and on and on and on and on….

Paris Is Bored

there’s not much to waking, it’s all garbage in my sleep
remembering to stutter, I pass out in my mid-speech
a tangled web of movie quotes and shifting memory
they’re as good as any, you get the drift of what I mean
I don’t want to feel better unless it’s gonna be right now
these are strange days of hurting. It’s not so bad right now

Paris is bored. What can you expect?
Some come to remember, some can’t remember to forget
a semi-demented song, built upon such a mess
hard to repair. Harder still to make it fit…
go ahead and run to California, we don’t need you anyhow
“My God, things are going badly.”–must be going around.

a restaurant
a drinking game
a bar tab left unpaid

watching the ghosts in the paint
on a wall in a room
I’m not allowed to leave

So I follow in the footsteps of the last of the wild parade
a little imitation becomes a dangerous thing
wasting of desire only makes one very cheap
it slips enough on it’s own, there’s no need to give it away
I’ve got my sleeping pills, hand me my wine
I’m sure the hearts are breaking all over this town tonight

all over
it’s all over
it’s all over tonight.