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There's a moment in my mind
I scribbled and erased a thousand times
Like a letter never written or sent
These conversations with the dead
I used to be a sentimental guy
Now I'm haunted by the left unsaid
I never thought so much could change
Little things you said or did
are part of me, come out from time to time
Probably no one I know now would notice
But I never thought so much could change
You drifted far away
Far away it seems
Time has stopped, the clock keeps going
People talkin' and I'm watching
As flashes of their faces go black and white
And fade to yellow in a box in an attic
But I never thought so much
Could change, now I don't miss anyone
I don't miss anything
What a shame cause I used to be a sentimental guy
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| i want this week to be over like now....
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| it's been awhile. i've went through some ups and downs lately.
i've learned a lot through these moments though. nothing bad has
happened just life in general throws you a curve ball now and
then. the curve ball has mostly been with relationships. i desire
perfection. is that to much to ask for? haha
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| xanga xanga xanga what has happened to you? it seems as if myspace and facebook have take over xanga. i look around at many sites and some people are posting now and then still...some not at all. xanga there was once a love for you. now it seems as if i am a man of few words on here. what do i say? i've lost touch with you dear xanga. i will try and rekindle that fire..haha
this is my apology to xanga. but honestly it's not as fun as these other sites anymore! sucks. i will always remember the good old days and maybe still re-live some in the near future. who knows?
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Records on the floor.
I'm giving back whats yours
remember us last weekend
dancing to the psychedelic furs.
I tried to tell myself
that we could be alright.
now it’s me and my
cigarettes and alcohol tonight.
So screen all the phone calls
and put the chain on the front door.
and if you see her
tell her I don’t live here anymore.
Driving neighbors crazv
with after hour fights
everything makes more sense
thank God that we broke it off that night.
Holding on to you
is like playing with broken glass.
I'm fighting off the memories
and all the living in the past.
The post cards in the drawer
The pictures on the wall.
The sound of little footsteps
that echo through the hall.
sound like a heart beat.
It’s like a heart beat
It’s like a heart break beat
and it’s beating out of me.
So screen all the phone calls
and put the chain on the front door.
and if vou see her
tell her I don.t live here anymore.
So pull all the shades down
and turn off the radio.
and if you see her
tell her I moved down to Mexico.
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