Thursday, October 21, 2010

a song

I've been tryin' to wrack my mind to find a reason that could find out
why I sit here. why I, wait here, for a sign.
And I've waitin' in this place with this blank look upon my face
waiting to find you, maybe, know you, maybe.

and I'm
so dependent on my
I keep lookin' out the window for a sign,
but I feel it in my bones, but they've been so wrong,
They've been lying to be all along.

and I'm
Scared that this trail is like a snails leading to a dying shell,
and the trail of slime I'm tailing has run dry.
and I'm afraid that nothings perfect and this imperfection kills me,
and I won't stop at nothing till I feel that floaty feeling,
and I never seem to feel it, so why should it be different I don't know

but I feel it in my bones, but they've been so, so wrong, they've been lying to me all along.

and now the reason once loud slips into a little whisper,
like a soft lullaby of the fears you'd never utter
but i utter over utter over and it gets louder,
the sound of my voice, a nail in the coffin
these sounds though soft they seep through wisdom; rationale soon becomes useless

but i feel it in my bones, i feel it in bones,

and i feel it in my bones, and yeah they're creaking and aging; yet I'll keep hoping for you,
and I'll wait in this place, creaking and aging
waiting until the pain of being in love with nothing gains a meaning,
then I'll know it's in my bones,
i'll know it's in my bones.