Selasa, 15 Maret 2005

Here I am

Destiny, destiny protect me from the world.
Hold my hand, protect me from the world.

And if the world does turn and if the city burns,
I'll be standing on the peak with my guitar.

I don’t wanna be Jim Morrison
Here I am with my running and confusion,
and I don't see no confusion anywhere.

. . .

Minggu, 13 Maret 2005

Maybe I am a PARANOID

You love me like I was a brother,
You protect me, listen to me,
You dug me my very own garden,
Gave me sunshine, made me happy.

I call up you, But you are out with your answerphone,
You says you would love to come help but,
The sea would electrocute us all.

I try to get feel better,
I try to get more stronger.

If you think that you're strong enough,
If you think you belong enough.

Tell me something i don’t know,
Tell me one thing, then let it go.

But I don't want to be crippled and cracked,
Shoulders, wrists, knees and back.
Ground to dust and ash, crawling on all fours,
Maybe i am just A Paranoid.

I need to wash myself again to hide all the dirt and pain,
Cos I'd be scared that there's nothing underneath,
But who are my real friends, have they all got the bends
Am I really sinking this low.

Minggu, 06 Maret 2005

No Consequence at All

I’ve been thinking about you, your records are here,
your eyes are on my wall, your teeth are over there.
But I'm not still the one, and you're now a star,
what do you care ?
I’ve been thinking about you, and there's no rest,
SHIT . . . I still love you, still see you in bed.
But I'm playing with myself, and what do you care,
when the other men are far, far better.

I've been thinking about you, so how can you sleep?
These people aren't your friends, they're paid to kiss your feet.
They don't know what I know and why should you care
when I'm not there.

You are the sun and moon and stars are you,
and I could never run away from you.
You try at working out chaotic things,
It's like the world is going to end so soon,
and why should I believe myself not you ?
Then now, I'm trying to get some rest
If your opinion which is of no consequence at all.

Jumat, 04 Maret 2005

a job will slowly kill you

A heart that's full up like a landfill,
a job that slowly kills you,
bruises that won't heal.
You look so tired-unhappy,
bring down the government,
they don't, they don't speak for us.
I'll take a quiet life, a handshake of carbon monoxide.

This is my final fit,
my final bellyache,
Such a pretty house and such a pretty garden.

Silent silence.
No alarms and no surprises, please.