Music will always say the things I can't...
you know what you are to me, don't make me say it over and over again. it's way too late, or much too early. you know how I get when I'm left alone to my vices, like the grown-ups did when I was a kid
I said: I'm a bird in your hand so take me as I am. you know what you are to me. don't make me say it over and over again. my left hand, a part of me. it stays late to clean up my mess. when I'm sick of all my choices, like the grown-ups I grew up with
(angels and addicts) when I put my arms around you, I mean it. when I'm too drunk to stay up with you, I mean it. when I slam doors 'cause I'm pissed at you, I mean it. when I put on a suit and say "I do", I mean it.
you know what you are to me. don't make me say it over and over again
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Sometimes i do things.
Sometimes i have friends.
Sometimes I'm cooler than you.
Sometimes music means more than you ever will.
Sometimes I write
I love my friends.
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We've never done much
But we've managed to get it all done
Every thought expressed.
In happy chords.
Smiles and laughs, strumming six strings
And letting loose the words that were forbidden
Soft spoken sentances, sob filled words,
And smiles from across the room
We knew what we were saying before it was said. and we all Felt the same way
We know one day this may end
But for now we've got happy chords, smiles.
And the occasional story to tell
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"It's hard to be truthful when you live in a world full of fakes..."
"Things seem so much more clear near the stateline..."
"The comforts of four are gone. They will never come back."
the way to create art is to burn and destroy
ordinary concepts and to substitute them
with new truths that run down from the top of the head
and out from the heart - Charles Bukowski (intro to the book "Sifting Through The Madness For The Word, The Line, The Way")
