Marco Jacksonovic

Crazy What You Could've Had
2002-02-21 10:57:55 (UTC)

We're Still Ways Away.

As all those who've been spending the early hours of each
day camping inside my bedroom will know, I've not been
sleeping too well recently. But I have moved my bedroom
around despite my love of its positioning; with bed next to
computer and everything else, well, within reach.

I digress. I moved round last night, and for the first time
in a long time wrote something I am proud of. It (I hope)
won't age well.

WE'RE STILL WAYS AWAY.

I've read the scenes when we began,
I've taken my sorrow to philomath,
Even the sky conspires against us,
My full days are empty, my empty days full,
Worry rages about what is done.

My head is up my mind is down,
A shallow smile on a deeper frown,
I can't sleep in my old position,
No maps can take me to you.

A tear rolls down your face to the chair,
Plot me the points and I'll be there,

I've looked back over our growing flower,
Pored over your words for hour on hour,
Even the paper is against us,
My free days are busy, my busy days free,
Shake my head, I've been through it all.

My head is up my mind is down,
A shallow smile on a deeper frown,
Now wind blows my colours to you,
It blows my words electric blue.

A tear rolls down your face to the chair,
Plot me the points and I'll be there.

Yes. It is written for somebody, and they know who too. See
if you can work it out! Anyway, I've got a lot of junk on
the newly visible floor, I ought to y'know, tidy.

WILT? Girlfriend In A Coma - The Smiths.




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