Monday, September 29, 2008
wash away this desert town
Sunday, September 28, 2008
trite phrases, fresh faces
My sheets still smell like you
A vague reminder of a night spent
Wrapped around each other
With something in our eyes, I couldn’t tell you what it was
Though I’d like to think I knew
Is this the way out?
Well the next time I need to tell you something
I’ll make sure I know exactly what to say
Because I know everything (But you know more)
And I know what makes you tick (But you know so much more)
And I know the way your eyes look (But you know more)
When you’re crying on the inside (And you’re around no more)
My bed still has your impressions
And I have them too
The ones you left between my sheets
And the ones you left here in my head
A vague reminder of our last time spent together
When you had something in your eyes
And I knew exactly what it was
Is this the way out?
You had a way out
Well the next time I need to tell you something
I’ll remember to pick my words and keep my distance
(I’ll let you pick the distance and I’ll keep your words)
Because you know everything
(it takes more)
And I don’t know anything
(it takes so much more)
But I know the way your eyes look
(We used to be so much more)
When you’re smiling on the inside
“I don’t have a reason for this”
“Do you want a reason for this?”
“I don’t think I can find a reason for it”
This is the way my sheets smell after you
Your arms around my neck
(My remeron replacement)
“I don’t have a reason for this”
Your lips against my skin
(My vicodin addiction)
“Do you want a reason for this?”
Your eyes attached to mine
(My Percocet prescription)
“I don’t think I have a reason for it”
“Let’s stop living in the past”
Well the next time I tell you something
I’ll remember to do it with your speed and keep it concise
And I’ll do my best to make sure I’m not spilling contrite across your bed sheets
With our meaningless lipsyncs
Is this the way out?
Is this…
Is this the way out?