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Saturday, 26 February 2011

Best Friends with the Devil

Call it a sickness of the soul turning to delusion
Some things you lose in life make it not matter what else you're losing
Call it a crisis of faith. Please! Call it something else -
Call it the lost and the lonely finally finding his place in the world

May you live happy and you live long
May your strength keep you faithful and your faith keep you strong
Not me, I'm weak, I'm giving up God
I've been waiting for him to save me so long, now saving ain't what I want

My behaviour lately's been nothing short of unchristian
I've been screaming out for God but either he can't hear me or he ain't listening
So I put myself on a self-made cross of self-pity
And I've been wondering what the barrel of a gun tastes like whilst I'm drinking

'Cos drinking is something like crying
And there's enough tears in my glass to drown
I've been screaming for heaven my whole goddam life
Now I'm hell-bound

Don't preach to me about salvation I'll preach you something better -
Makes the loss I feel from losing in life not even matter
You can call it mortal sin, call it growing old disgracefully, whatever,
But from now on whenever you see me call me best friends with the Devil.

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

A Petal in a Hurricane

You cry like a dancer, your tears twirling on tiptoes
As sweet as the tramp in the park watching the ducklings grow
Watching you fall in love as sweetly as you do
I almost don't want to catch you

When something is perfect you pray it'll always be the same
But no one can ever really tell when the wind is gonna change
It takes away your love and leaves you lost like a teardrop in the rain

Teardrops fall from your face just to be near us
Dancing like thoughts in the rain with eyes like dreamers
It's not my fault this time that their music won't play
I'm just a teardrop in the rain

Kissing out in the field and you said "No daisy's the same"
Picking them out of the ground and making me a chain
I wear it in my hair for the rest of the sunshining day

But I'm so lonely now,
I laugh at myself holding daisies, crying, graveside, in the rain
As the sweetness of the wind brings a petal to your grave.

Saturday, 5 February 2011

Scuffed-up Shoes

Scuffed-up shoes from running loose
She's been living on the streets again
Knocking back the hardest drinks in the bar
Where she can pretend she's got friends
This guy compliments her and buys her a drink
But she blocks out what he says
She watches him slip off his wedding ring and thinks to herself
'Oh, man, here we go again...'

She drinks to forget how lonely she is
But only the lonely will buy her a drink
She looks around
And slams another glass down

With holes in the soles of her shoes she goes
Back to this married man's house
Up into his marital bedroom
The kids' pictures face-down
She closes her eyes as he touches her thighs
And she wonders what his wife must be like
If this is how a man treats his spouse and she's alone
Maybe she's doing alright

There's only so many men in this world
And none of them know how to treat a girl
She waits for him to sleep
And then she quietly leaves
Stealing some money from the side and flirting wild
With the driver of the taxi

She refuses his advances so he pulls her out of the car
He leaves her in a heap beside the bar

Talking to a stranger from out under her hair
He asks her 'Why you drinking?', she says 'Why do you care?'
And with a casual reply
He says, 'Some men are just nice'

She didn't believe him but what's another beating
So she went back to his place
She still didn't believe him but when they were finished
He wanted her to stay
So they talked all night about their lives
And in the morning stayed in bed all day

Maybe this one will work out alright
'Hey, baby, slide over, come on, hold me tight'
That itch that used to burn underneath her skin
The itch that she could only scratch with drink
Is all at once soothed by him
When he says,
'I love you'.

Thursday, 3 February 2011

I cry into my beer...

When my Mama left she left just me and my Dad
I was only 8 years old
Dad was never really one for bringing home the bread
So everything she left had to be sold
Daddy never told me where my mother went
And I don't think he even knew why
All's I remember is he'd come home almost every night
And into his beer he'd cry
He'd never say a word

He didn't speak or work much whilst I was growing up
Me and him we both got thin
I moved out as soon as I could work a job
Just to make life easier on him
Now as it goes you know I don't speak or work much myself
Them apples don't fall far from the tree
I say 'Good Morning' to my boss and I thank him for my cheque
And even though he don't like me
He treats me alright

I save what I earn
I don't drink like Dad
But every now and then when I get really sad
I get me a six-pack
And sit here on my couch
I ain't got no friends so I don't go out

I just sit here
I just sit here and cry into my beer