söndag 15 mars 2009

the ship is out on the cold sea now, I let it go


and there is a river of tears
there is a river of tears
coming through
finally

J Tillman is singing about the masters house but the master is gone
in the presence of emptiness the master decides
that the master of the master was already gone
I have sins enough now to pray in his church
I have sorrow enough to fall down on my knees in the search
god is in the house
telling me
that I am alone
the master is gone
not ready to take care of any of these angels
still not ready
still not ready
to drown in a river of tears
I was supposed to ran after her
but I twisted my ankle
and when I think about it know
I understand how wrong I was
sometimes you do it right, sometimes you do wrong
just live with it

I think about Paris
I think about Paris and I wonder what is wrong
I think of all the places we never went and I cry whenever I see a map of the capital of europe and I have to go there
I have to go and meet the spring with this lump in my throat
and of course I understood that she met someone better, of course the curtain went down because her voice was talking in a language I didnt understand and it was cold in Paris that day and it is still cold even if the spring is here
I cry when I think about these moments we never had I thought I could trust me but I couldnt I thought I was something in my own eyes but I did wrong and I have to live with it and Markus found the way to my heart after ressurecting for the perhaps fourth time and now it is my turn to let the bad things once again lead to the good and the good will out I treat them like ladies lift down their bags from high up in the train even if I hate their annoying voices I kind of like their attitude and their confidence all together, I think all this about the stupid teenagers next to me and Johan when we leave the train and he calls them hens hence to their constant speaking and I shake his hand at the station and Adam calls about work and I sound happy and stabil but I cry inside and I come home and instantly put the computer and I know that she will do the final twist, the little push over the edge, that she will kill me, and it is obvious when I open my mailbox and the link with her name that she stopped loving me somehow, she writes me that there is another one and I cant cry, she just killed me, and there is nothing to cry about, just this emptyness, and the picture is still there, of her leaving alone down my street to the airplane that never left, and she never left me, she never leaves me, I have been hiding under a fog of alcohol and blondes and brunettes with silly names and now I understand, they are rare, they are roses, and they are mine, and nobody else understands why they in perticular are my roses, and whilst the roses grow bigger and better my heart turns more and more grey and I will fall apart now cause she killed me after me first killing her love and my love and attempting to kill me. So I am dead now, I am dead, because for all the happinnes I experience I fall deeper and now I will drown and drop dead, I wont care anymore, nobody can hurt me more then I already did with this and I am not ready, I am not ready for anything else but this death. This death is very close to me. I thank you and me for that. We killed me.