Sunday, November 9, 2008

Letter #3

I Want to Hold Your Hand

"Oh yeah, I'll tell you something
I think you'll understand"

I couldn't sing because I was asleep. I couldn't sing because I peeked out the window, and I was squinting.

I laid an hour in bed, pretending to be asleep. The time set wrong, my phone along the dusts, my pillow just slightly memorizing you.

We never get anything done. We never get anywhere far. The two dullest people that spend sitting and knowing, along the way that you don't have a clue what this could be.

And yet I find myself questioning in paranoia and fear...

That what the hell am I talking about..
_

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)