| ...written on the back of a pamphlet about depression... (08.11.01) i'm so sad that i can't eat. but i don't mind cause something inside of me feels better when i don't. the boss told me that everything that dies someday comes back. and i 'd like to believe it i really would. cause maybe then you'd see me in those blue eyes she has. cause i'm so sick of this face. i'm so sick of being strong. and maybe someday i'll tell you when you ask me what's wrong. cause tonight hope has died beside some railroad tracks. and i'm seriously contemplating driving away and not coming back. i've got some kind of manifest destiny. and the honesty in me says, i'll be better off when you're something i can't see. so i've got a pack of cigarettes to lead my way home. and a will for something that will die by dawn. cause the faces of people walking beside my car tell me they don't know where they're headed either. you oncee told me they're all morons. and i saw the cynic in you rise. maybe you're not the same person now as i would like to believe. maybe that's a piece of you that can't be retrieved. so i guess it won't happen now, but for some reason i had to try. cause the masochist in me wouldn't let it die. maybe someday your bravery will come back. maybe someday you'll risk taking a chance on this. maybe someday. maybe someday. (* from Atlantic City by Bruce Springsteen- if you haven't heard that song then you are missing out) |