Fri
Oct
9
I’m locking all the doors. I’m busting up the mirrors.
Reflection is a dirty thing. It seems that’s all too obvious.
I didn’t dim the lights enough. They see me against the wall.
I’m making silhouettes, and it’s all my fucking fault.
I would prefer a breeze, but I’ll settle for this drink in front of me.
The humid night just sticks to my skin.
Isn’t that so generous. It follows me to sleep.
Now I toss and turn in. I hit the lights and sit at the edge of the bed,
Strumming what’s inside of me. I guess this night’s been turned into something useful.
I’m strumming my guitar looking out a dirty window. I’m drunker than I’ve been.
What else do I have to say or sing?
-None More Black
Tue
Sep
8
“ Because there’s no such thing as rock stars, there’s just people who play music.
Fri
Aug
21
“ Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you can not hear my voice
I’ll be right beside you dear
Thu
Aug
20
All my life,
I’ve been waiting for you,
I never want to say goodbye,
To you.
All my life,
I’ve been searching for you,
I never want to let go,
Of you.
My love for you is real,
In the shape of heart,
I play my guitar,
For you.
In my room,
On the floor,
When you were just nineteen.
My pretty blues.
I will buy you,
A bed of roses,
Just to keep,
That smile on your face,
I will buy you,
A pocket full of bacon,
Just to see those eyes,
In the rain.
My love for you is real,
In the shape of heart,
I play my guitar,
For you.
In my room,
On the floor,
When you were just nineteen.
My pretty blues.
All the air,
In the atmosphere,
Is never enough,
To tell you I care.
All the air,
In the atmosphere ,
Is never enough,
To tell you I’m there.
My love for you is real,
In the shape of heart,
I play my guitar,
For you.
In my room,
On the floor,
When you were just nineteen.
My pretty blues.
Wed
Aug
19
there's a place where everyone can be happy,
it's the most beautiful place in the whole fucking world,
it's made of candy canes and planes,
and bright red choo choo trains and the meanest little boys,
most innocent little girls,
and you know,
I wish that I could go there,
it's a road that I have not found,
and I wish you the best of luck dear,
drop a card or letter to my side of town.
Sat
Aug
15
Shouldering the blame
Walking into frame
Like a lighted silhouette
Against a cotton sheet
Smothering the crease
Tin can in hand
Waiting for god to come around
But he never comes around
He never comes around
Quiet like a mouse
Building up your house
Just to tear it down
Leaving us the pieces
Do they ever fit?
Tin can in hand
Waiting for god to come around
But he never comes around
He never comes around
He never comes around
