i can't say i blame you, but i wish that i could, i'm sick of writing every song about you
i got my phone taken away; hopefully i'll get it back soon.'
i miss my dad alot.
got in a fight with my mom, she gets in her mean-for-no-reason moods alot more now.
BRIGHT EYES
"haligh,haligh,a lie, haligh"
The phone slips from a loose grip.
Words were missed then some apology
like I didn’t want to tell you this
it’s just some guys she has been hanging out with
oh I don’t know the past couple of weeks I guess.
Thank you and hang up the phone.
Let the funeral start.
Hear the casket close.
Let’s pin split-black ribbon onto your overcoat.
Still laughter pours from under doors in this house.
I don’t understand that sound no more.
It seems artificial like a T.V. set.
Haligh, Haligh,
Haligh, Haligh
this weight it must be satisfied.
You offer only one reply.
You know not what you do.
But you tear and tear your hair from roots.
From that same head you have twice removed
a lock of hair you said would prove our love would never die. Well ha ha ha.
But I remember everything
the words we spoke on freezing South street.
And all those morning watching you get ready for school.
You combed your hair inside that mirror.
The one you painted blue and glued with jewelry tears. Something about those bright colors
always made you feel better.
So now we speak with ruined tongues
and the words we say aren’t meant for anyone.
It’s just a mumbled sentence to a passing acquaintance
but there was once you said
you hated my suffering and you understood
and you’d take care of me.
You would always be there,
well where are you now?
Haligh, Haligh,
Haligh, Haligh,
the plans were never finalized
but left to hang like yarn and twine dangling before my eyes. As you tear and tear your hair from roots,
from that same head that you have twice removed
a lock of hair you said would prove our love would never die.
As I sing and sing of awful things,
the pleasure that my sadness brings
as my fingers press onto the strings
you get another clumsy chord.
Haligh, Haligh, an awful lie.
This weight will now be satisfied.
I will give you only one reply,
I know not who I am
but I talk in the mirror to the stranger that appears.
Our conversations are circles and always one sided,
nothing is clear.
Except we keep coming back to this meaning that I lack.
He says the choices were given
and now I must live them or just not live,
but do you want that?
TAKING BACK SUNDAY
"head club"
Well it's getting colder and we're getting distant
and I just keep thinkin
that I never meant it to be like this(to be like this)
You know what comes next(so do I)
You’re begging for a way to gracefully bow out
and say goodnight
It's worse than you think
On your way home, you should have known
you never listen to me
I’m only complaining to keep myself busy, sweetie
I’m only complaining to keep myself busy, sweetie
I can’t say I blame you
but I wish that I could
I’m sick of writing every song about you
Don't call my name out your window, I'm leaving
(I'm sick of writing every song about you should have known on your way home)
older, and wiser, still filled with resentment
we get it, we get it
and i havent been happier since,
i haven't been happy, no
not since.
i miss my dad alot.
got in a fight with my mom, she gets in her mean-for-no-reason moods alot more now.
BRIGHT EYES
"haligh,haligh,a lie, haligh"
The phone slips from a loose grip.
Words were missed then some apology
like I didn’t want to tell you this
it’s just some guys she has been hanging out with
oh I don’t know the past couple of weeks I guess.
Thank you and hang up the phone.
Let the funeral start.
Hear the casket close.
Let’s pin split-black ribbon onto your overcoat.
Still laughter pours from under doors in this house.
I don’t understand that sound no more.
It seems artificial like a T.V. set.
Haligh, Haligh,
Haligh, Haligh
this weight it must be satisfied.
You offer only one reply.
You know not what you do.
But you tear and tear your hair from roots.
From that same head you have twice removed
a lock of hair you said would prove our love would never die. Well ha ha ha.
But I remember everything
the words we spoke on freezing South street.
And all those morning watching you get ready for school.
You combed your hair inside that mirror.
The one you painted blue and glued with jewelry tears. Something about those bright colors
always made you feel better.
So now we speak with ruined tongues
and the words we say aren’t meant for anyone.
It’s just a mumbled sentence to a passing acquaintance
but there was once you said
you hated my suffering and you understood
and you’d take care of me.
You would always be there,
well where are you now?
Haligh, Haligh,
Haligh, Haligh,
the plans were never finalized
but left to hang like yarn and twine dangling before my eyes. As you tear and tear your hair from roots,
from that same head that you have twice removed
a lock of hair you said would prove our love would never die.
As I sing and sing of awful things,
the pleasure that my sadness brings
as my fingers press onto the strings
you get another clumsy chord.
Haligh, Haligh, an awful lie.
This weight will now be satisfied.
I will give you only one reply,
I know not who I am
but I talk in the mirror to the stranger that appears.
Our conversations are circles and always one sided,
nothing is clear.
Except we keep coming back to this meaning that I lack.
He says the choices were given
and now I must live them or just not live,
but do you want that?
TAKING BACK SUNDAY
"head club"
Well it's getting colder and we're getting distant
and I just keep thinkin
that I never meant it to be like this(to be like this)
You know what comes next(so do I)
You’re begging for a way to gracefully bow out
and say goodnight
It's worse than you think
On your way home, you should have known
you never listen to me
I’m only complaining to keep myself busy, sweetie
I’m only complaining to keep myself busy, sweetie
I can’t say I blame you
but I wish that I could
I’m sick of writing every song about you
Don't call my name out your window, I'm leaving
(I'm sick of writing every song about you should have known on your way home)
older, and wiser, still filled with resentment
we get it, we get it
and i havent been happier since,
i haven't been happy, no
not since.