On a string I was held. The way that I move, can you tell? My actions are orchestrated from above. So I swing and I sway.Wave my hand. Kick my leg. And it is always right with the music. "Until all that swaying starts to make you sick" For a song I was bought. Now I lie when I talk with a careful eye on the cue card. Onto a stage, I was pushed with my sorrow well rehearsed. So give me all your pity and your money. Now. "We used to think that sound was something pure" If I could act like this was my real life and not some cage where I've been placed, then, I could tell you the truth like I used to and not be afraid of sounding fake. Now all that anyone is listening for are the mistakes. In a house, by myself, I hear the ice start to melt and watch rooftops weep for the sunlight. And I know what must change. Fuck my face. Fuck my name. They are brief and false advertisements for a soul I don't have. Something true I have lacked and spent my whole life trying to make up for. But I found in a song and in the people I love. They will lift me up out of darkness. Now my door stands open. I am inviting everyone in. We're gonna laugh, we're gonna drink until the morning comes.
That is what we are going to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment