matt_rawlings
07/30/06, 06:53 PM
An Empty House (echo)
We’re all human; we just don’t know it
And we each carry a purpose
Whether or not that’s a good thing I don’t know
So I drink when I have the time to
And make pretend that I’m so happy
So fulfilled with every moment yet to pass
But don’t feel sorry, I know you meant it
My names still etched out on the pavement
Next to your initials that you dotted with a smile
And I know you can’t help talking
About every fucking feeling
But please let me lay here for an hour
So marvelled by the silence
And each thought that will lay witness
To the tricks my dreams play on my waking eyes
I thought it had all just been a memory
I made up as I was sleeping
But the hallway tells the story as it stands
It ran away just like a daughter
Who cries at night because her father
Hits her mother when she comes home late from work
Scraps of paper spill out the drawer
With all the mail I forgot to forward
And what remains of that song I wrote with you
The piano’s looking tired
Its mouth open and full of wires
That gather dust the more that it is played.
If I’m not sure of religion
Can I pray for absolution?
White wings will never reach my darkened door
One sad beautiful flower
Sits on my kitchen counter
To remind me that the weather can always change
We’re all human; we just don’t know it
And we each carry a purpose
Whether or not that’s a good thing I don’t know
So I drink when I have the time to
And make pretend that I’m so happy
So fulfilled with every moment yet to pass
But don’t feel sorry, I know you meant it
My names still etched out on the pavement
Next to your initials that you dotted with a smile
And I know you can’t help talking
About every fucking feeling
But please let me lay here for an hour
So marvelled by the silence
And each thought that will lay witness
To the tricks my dreams play on my waking eyes
I thought it had all just been a memory
I made up as I was sleeping
But the hallway tells the story as it stands
It ran away just like a daughter
Who cries at night because her father
Hits her mother when she comes home late from work
Scraps of paper spill out the drawer
With all the mail I forgot to forward
And what remains of that song I wrote with you
The piano’s looking tired
Its mouth open and full of wires
That gather dust the more that it is played.
If I’m not sure of religion
Can I pray for absolution?
White wings will never reach my darkened door
One sad beautiful flower
Sits on my kitchen counter
To remind me that the weather can always change