xanga's pretty much finished, sinclair has facebook now. so i'm on that.

">Facebook me!  

Totally awesome song!:

Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning
when you start to raise your head?
And does he sing to you, incessantly,
from the space between your bed and wall?
Does he walk around all day at school,
with his feet inside your shoes?
Looking down every few steps
to pretend he walks with you?
Oh, Does he know that place below your neck
that's your favorite to be touched?
And does he cry through broken sentences like,
"I love you far too much"?

Does he lay awake listening to your breath?
Worried you smoke too many cigarettes?
Is he coughing now?
On a bathroom floor?
For every speck of tile
There's a thousand more
You won’t ever see
But most hold inside yourself
Eternally

Well, I drug your ghost across the country
And we plotted out my death
In every city, memories would whisper,
"Here is where you rest."

I was determined in Chicago
But I dug my teeth into my knees
And I settled for a telephone
Sang into your machine,

"You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine."

And I kissed a girl with a broken jaw
That her father gave to her
She had eyes bright enough to burn me ;
They reminded me of yours
And in a story told, she was a little girl in a red-rouge, sun-bruised field
And there were rows of ripe tomatoes, where a secret was concealed
And it rose like thunder
Clapped under our hands
And it stretched for centuries
To a diary entry’s end
Where I wrote,

"You make me happy,
Oh, when skies are gray.
You make me happy
Oh, when skies are gray, and gray, and gray."

Well the clock’s heart it hangs inside its open chest
With its hands stretched towards the calendar hanging itself
But I will not weep
For those dying days
For all the ones who've left
There's a few that stayed
And they found me here
And pulled me from the grass
Where I was laid              

I really want to see them in concert                               

< New picture, me and the big brother!!

This was going to be the song playing, but the link doesn't work. oh well!

"Sic Transit Gloria...Glory Fades"

Keep the noise low.
She doesn't wanna blow it.
Shaking head to toe
while your left hand does "the show me around."
Quickens your heartbeat.
It beats me straight into the ground.

You don't recover from a night like this.
A victim, still lying in bed, completely motionless.
A hand moves in the dark to a zipper.
Hear a boy bracing tight against sheets
barely whisper, "This is so messed up."

Upon arrival the guests had all stared.
Dripping wet and clearly depressed,
he'd headed straight for the stairs.
No longer cool, but a boy in a stitch,
unprepared for a life full of lies and failing relationships.

(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)

He keeps his hands low.
He doesn't wanna blow it.
He's wet from head to toe and
his eyes give her the up and the down.
His stomach turns and he thinks of throwing up.
But the body on the bed beckons forward
and he starts growing up.

The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason I breathed but now it's choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

She hits the lights.
This doesn't seem quite fair.
Despite everything he learned from his friends,
he doesn't feel so prepared.
She's breathing quiet and smooth.
He's gasping for air.
"This is the first and last time," he says.
She fakes a smile and presses her hips into his.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He's holding back from telling her
exactly what it really feels like.

He is the lamb, she is the slaughter.
She's moving way too fast and all he wanted was to hold her.
Nothing that he tells her is really having an effect.
He whispers that he loves her,
but she's probably only looking for se-...

(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)

So much more than he could ever give.
A life free of lies and a meaningful relationship.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He waits for it to end
and for the aching in his guts to subside.

The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason I breathed but now it's choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.

The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason I breathed but now it's choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

Bored with xanga really

YUP

Sunrise, sunset.
Sunrise, sunset.
Swiftly go the days.
Sunrise, sunset.
You wake up, then you undress.
It always is the same.
a sunrise and the sun sets.
You’re lying while you confess, keep trying to explain.
a sunrise and the sun sets you realize then you forget                                      what you’ve been trying to retain.
But everybody knows it’s all about the things
that get stuck inside of your head,
like the songs your roommate sings
a vision of her body as she stretches out on your bed.
and she raised her hands in the air asked you,
When was the last time you looked in the mirror?
cause you have changed.
Yeah, you have changed.
Sunrise, the sun sets.
You are hopeful and then you regret.
The circle never breaks.
With a sunrise and a sunset there’s a change of heart or address.
Is there nothing that remains?
For a sunrise or a sunset.
You’re manic or you’re depressed.
Will you ever feel ok?
for a sunrise or sunset, your lover is an actress.
Did you really think she’d stay?
For a sunrise or sunset.
You’re either coming or you just left but you’re always on the way.
Towards a sunrise or a sunset, a scribble or a sonnet.
They are really just the same.
To the sunrise and the sunset.
The master and his servant have exactly the same fate.
It’s a sunrise and a sunset.
From a cradle to a casket.
There’s no way to escape.
The sunrise and the sunset.
Hold your sadness like a puppet, keep putting on the play.
But everything you do is leading to the point
where you just won’t know what to do.
And at that moment you may laugh
but there is someone there who will be laughing louder than you.
So it’s true, the trick is complete.
become everything you said that you never would be.
You’re a fool! You’re a fool!
Sunrise, sunset.
Sunrise, sunset.
The sunrise and the sun sets.
Sunrise, sunset.
Sunrise, the sun sets.
Sunrise, the sun sets.
Sunrise, sunset.
Go home to your apartment
put the cassette in the tape deck and let that fever play.
Sunrise, sunset.
Where are you Arienette?
Where are you Arienette?

-amazing