The Weakerthans: Left and Leaving.
For some reason, today is more lonely than usual. Why do I waste my time thinking about people who have hurt me the most? Maybe I just don't quite understand how one person can do something that awful to another.
I started taking my camera with me everywhere, again. I can't seem to get any creative energy flowing. I'm afraid that once I am in Chicago, I'll realize that this isn't the life I want
My city's still breathing through buildings gone missing like teeth. The sidewalks are watching me think about you, sparkled with broken glass. I'm back with scars to show. Back with the streets I know will never take me anywhere but here. The stain in the carpet, this drink in my hand, the strangers whose faces I know. We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say "I wanted it this way." Wait for the year to drown. Spring forward, fall back down. I'm trying not to wonder where you are. All this time lingers, undefined. Someone choose who's left and who's leaving. Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me: a blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest, the best parts of lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires, new words for old desires, and every birthday card I threw away. I wait in 4/4 time. Count yellow highway lines that you're relying on to lead you home.
For some reason, today is more lonely than usual. Why do I waste my time thinking about people who have hurt me the most? Maybe I just don't quite understand how one person can do something that awful to another.
I started taking my camera with me everywhere, again. I can't seem to get any creative energy flowing. I'm afraid that once I am in Chicago, I'll realize that this isn't the life I want
My city's still breathing through buildings gone missing like teeth. The sidewalks are watching me think about you, sparkled with broken glass. I'm back with scars to show. Back with the streets I know will never take me anywhere but here. The stain in the carpet, this drink in my hand, the strangers whose faces I know. We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say "I wanted it this way." Wait for the year to drown. Spring forward, fall back down. I'm trying not to wonder where you are. All this time lingers, undefined. Someone choose who's left and who's leaving. Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me: a blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest, the best parts of lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires, new words for old desires, and every birthday card I threw away. I wait in 4/4 time. Count yellow highway lines that you're relying on to lead you home.
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