Trying not to lose my head but I have never been this scared before
Tell you what I'll do instead, lay my body down on the floor
To forget what I've done, silhouette til the good lord come
All we know is distance
We're close and then we run
Kiss away the difference
I know you hate this one
Trying not to lose your own, boxing up everything, you've got
All you ever knew of home, you're scared scared to see
Your mother there in the door, you wonder where did the years go
All we know is distance
We're close and then we run
Kiss away the difference
I know you hate this one
But this is how the story ends
Or have we just begun
To kiss away the difference
I know you hate this one
The violins make no sound
And I begin to feel the ground
All we know is distance
We're close and then we run
Kiss away the difference
I know you hate this one
But this is where the story ends
Or have we just begun
To kiss away the difference
I know you hate this one
Song Suggestion: Where the Story Ends by The Fray
For the self-titled album by the The Fray, the song above is one of the less somber sounding. It starts with a good cymbal beat and perking teeth-tickling (the ivories, the keys).
Anyone else feeling overdue for the election?
(murmors in the crowd)
Hell. I can't even listen to some piano rock without it glazing my interpretation of the music.
Hell. Even Time magazine is spinning on it's desk chair and clicking the print button 3 times too many:
They have me asking, literally, "Which way's up?"
Hell.
When I was in high school I was in theatre. During dress rehearsal week of the 5th production of my 7-production-career I had a melt down. Crying in the hallway outside the cafeteria. Just overload. So ready to freaking give birth to the anticipated event that I started making mistakes. One too many sashays to the left. A beat too late on "right here in River City".
I feel that's how we are, as a nation, now. People are retracing the baseboard next to the yellow wallpaper of their beliefs. And we're wearing a hole in the floorboards people. We're losing site of how we even got in the attic.
Take heart, my fellow Unionites!
The eve of our greatest relief is upon us. In a few short/long days we'll be done with Obama-Romma-Drama and onto reporting Honey Boo-Boo's new line of wheeled sneakers called "Go-Go-Boo-Shoes."
So look forward to the new glitter-n-belly flesh-toned shoes for toddlers. But in the mean time, don't forget to sashay over to the polls and vote right here in River City.
