random thoughts, reacting to a break-up,a long lost friend who will never be found again |
I can’t remember your face I can’t remember how you felt I can’t remember what you sound like I remember our bedroom Turquoise walls Our bed I remember the last time we made love Not the last time we had sex The last time we made love It was in that room, on that bed I remember thinking ‘It won’t get better than this’ Because it was so good We were so good The thought hit me without warning that night Remember that night? It was dark We were both half asleep Then we started touching, caressing, kissing And then heaven came and came and came... We were truly one Your body was mine Mine was yours That house was like our relationship It should have been perfect Maybe once upon a time it was It was small, cute, cozy, comfortable But it was old, needed work It was falling apart from the day we moved in I loved that house It was our only home together The yard, the trees, so quiet, secluded It was a glimpse of what heaven could be We never fixed it We just painted, re-arranged We hid the cracks that were so obvious We covered the holes I can’t remember your face... I let you go a long time ago When I went away No particular reason, nothing happened I think that was the problem Nothing happened Nothing was ever going to happen We were falling apart But we never fixed it I still can’t listen without a slight pinch to the heart I gave you my heart But you never wanted my heart You just wanted ‘a’ heart I know mine is too valuable But it is strong It’s like you never existed Like you’re a shadow of a memory I fucking hate cats Your family is fucking nuts I’m not nostalgic I was never a romantic person I'm no romantic now I'm not trying to re-live the 'good old days' because they are gone I just find fascinating how life goes on It never stops It’s always moving Like the blood through our veins I miss Carla I miss making music with her and S. That was always so intense We had a connection that went beyond this world You and I never had that Music to me is something greater, something ethereal Something so precious that you break if you treat it like a bunch of notes on a page That’s how you kill it You always killed it I used to care so much Now I don’t care anymore And I care about the dead You’re not even dead to me Almost like you never were Maybe I fabricated a persona Someone who never existed I think I saw what you could be And you killed that too |