The Hypocrite Walrus

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

The blonde and the almost love

She took my hands while I was looking away
"I'm not much of a dancer"- I said
she was fine
she was more than fine

She knew how to tease
I kept drinking

I could imagine her
in my room
she was almost flawless
sleeping in the aftermath

She might be dumb
or a heartbreaker
I never found out

But what she was
is beautiful
And I can't have it

So I went back home
to my woman

I found her sleeping
I kissed her in the forehead
and she smiled in her sleep

and then
I remembered
why she was in my bed
and not her

Yellow Blur Old New Times

Little drops of happines
and we're looking up to them
waiting for them to fall
into our mouths

And in the meantime
it all keeps going
Wanting, waiting
it keeps you going

All we remember
is the feeling of it

When we think
we can take it all
do it all
have it all

And when we get some
we need more
but the feeling
is already gone

It's happening all over again
there's never really a breakpoint

I once setted my landmark
in the sea

We wonder about time
and when the hell is it coming

I just toasted to you
and as the beer goes down
it goes up
As the good ol'boys
sang their tunes
to somehow
make it all go away

"My song is a scarecrow" -he said,
as he put his arms around my neck
After it all,
all we have is each other

And I stop thinking
about the other things
and somehow
feel good
for now

But the truth is
we are always waiting
for something