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 Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 8:19 pm
Critique all you want, I'm not personally a fan of my own work and if you're harsh I'm likely to agree with you.
At Your Feet
Rushing round the bend on this life I've come to know,
Never finding a place I can truly call home.
Will someone come to save me?
Or will they pass me by?
Will time stay at a stand-still until the day I die?
Acting like I'm full when emptiness tears at my heart,
hiding behind the mask that has grown to fit my life
Non-existant is the cheer that once rang true through every word,
finding hope and then letting it go on the wind, falling-
At your feet.
Will you pick my hope up?
Bring it back to me again?
Crush it, paint it with the tainted life of this conformity
Or let it back on it's own to find me?
Nothing is too far away to miss,
something right around the corner that I can't reach
isn't you, it's something else.
but it's sitting right
At your feet.
And I finally run too far and there you are again
just waiting for me to come running for your heart and help
The past is far gone,
The future unsure,
and you voice forces through-
"Now is the present."
Trying to run back on nothing but thin air,
struggling with the mask you're trying to help remove.
Then the thing I want is gone,
you find it, and I plead
At your feet, saying
"Will you pick my dreams up?
Bring them back to me again?
Crush them, paint them with the tainted life of this conformity
Or wait for me to find them, knowing
Nothing is too far away to miss,
something right around the corner that I can't reach
isn't you, it's something else.
but it's dying right
At your feet."
Gone again
I told you I was sorry
the 7th time I left
Get it through your head
that I'm never coming back
It's not what you've said
But it is what you've done
I don't mind your s**t
But lately it's been too much
Don't try again
Don't say I'm gone again
You think that I'll be back again
But the empty space that was you is gone now
friends and better days will replace you in the end
You told me you were sorry
Just the other day
But I didn't see it in you
'Sorry' wasn't there
Lies are all I see in you
You think that it's all right.
You're like a piece of glass
Struck through your loved one's heart
Don't try again
Don't say I'm gone again
You think that I'll be back again
But the empty space that was you is gone now
friends and better days will replace you in the end
Sick of everything about you
Trying hard to find
a better point of view to this
Black clouds lingering in the house
Yells go back and forth
like lightening
My last try
I'm gone again
Look at the empty space
that's left beside you
Your hate will swallow you in the end
Sugar Drops and Acid Rain
(spoken, slightly crackly in background like it's an old recording)This generation of teen-aged people have it easy, ya know? None of the chores or nothin', they don't know hardship at all. They ever have to go to war? No. They ever deal with an epidemic? No.
(sung, happy, slightly crackly)
Sugar drops and acid rain
That's what teens are made of
Sugar drops for the blurred sight
Acid rain for the stupid fights
Sugar drops and acid rain
Keep us in our childhood frame
(sung choppy and angrily, not crackly)
Opinions, decisions,
We're all our parent's clones
fashion, pashion,
laughing matters of those
Economy, psychology
mixed signals for the
Intellect caught between
One stage and the next
(spoken with a certain Texan-esque accent, somewhat crackly) These are the years that this age's citizens will remember as great, and the shaping years of their life. It is a delicate but wonderfull time, as you can all remember.
(sung choppy and angrily, not crackly)
Tell me, mum,
what was childhood?
When did you know
what you'd do in life?
When did people tell you
to start behaving
assuming you'll break away
And screw up anyway?
Opinions, decisions,
forced choice of 'free' speech
fashion, pashion,
peer fads and sad times are here
Economy, psychology
simple stress theory of the
Intellect caught between
One stage and the next
(spoken, with yells of agreement in background)I hate our generation. I mean, c'mon, we're caught in the perfect place to have to deal with everyone else's mistakes, of the past and future generations. I mean, what the hell!
(sung, happy, slightly crackly)
Sugar drops and acid rain
That's what teens are made of
Sugar drops for the blurred sight
Acid rain for the stupid fights
Sugar drops and acid rain
Keep us in our childhood frame
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Posted: Tue Feb 07, 2006 6:58 pm
Now, I shall make you all go through my equally bad stories.... or story beginnings. I never finish these things.
Contents:
Lost for Words: How good I wish I was at music. Damn it. So, I'll be living it out through Hera, the main character.
Lost for Words
Part 1
The striking melody that rushed from every centimeter of the young musician's body to her fingertips lingered only slightly over the roar of voices that was the inattentive class. The class was a sure fire A+, everyone knew it. Almost none would admit it. Numerous times the young girl in the back of the classroom had communicated to the high authorities at the school about the lack of interest in music of the music teacher, but they wouldn't hear of it. The music teacher was a balding man who kept teaching for years far past what his contract required. He was the sort of man who reminded you slightly of your grandfather, no matter if you had a living grandfather or not. He was cheery, kind, and helped every student with their homework that he could, but why he had been placed in charge of the music class was a mystery. The fact that he remained in charge of the music class was pure idiocy.
As the teacher yelled angrily over the roar to keep it at a level that didn't shake the walls, the young girl's fingers started flying. She had changed quickly to another piece. This one threatened to conquer the noise of the other students, as the piece picked up speed and the dynamic marking rised to a fortissimo. A few students turned their heads, and the girl was given a moment of recognition, before the roar of the crowd resumed.
The bell rang but the girl continued playing until the whole class had cleared out. The teacher walked to the back of the class and rested his hand lightly on the girl's shoulder. The girl gave him a sour look, since he had stopped her in an unusual spot.
"I'm sorry I didn't let you finish that section, Hera." The teacher started. The girl mouthed the word finale. "Finale, my apologies. I'm sorry I didn't let you finish the finale, but you need to run off to your next class." The girl mouthed the word lunch. "Well, then, run off to lunch. I have to prepare for my next class."
The girl, Hera Minkel, rolled her eyes at the teacher before smiling at him and leaving the classroom. The teacher watched her leave and continued to stare at the door after she was gone. He let out a low whistle and looked over at the piano. He felt humbled to even work with Hera in his classroom. Music flowed from her fingertips. He guessed that she had become so good at music because it was the only way she could express herself.
Hera had been born almost completely deaf. She had been born only about a week premature, but some complication, likely a delayed development of her ears by chance, had brought her into the world nearly deaf. Her hearing stayed just long enough for her to hear a few of Beethoven's symphonies (on full volume) before she turned three, when her parents tried to explain to her that she had lost all hearing.
Hera never recognized it for herself until her fourth birthday party, where everyone was dancing to something. Hera had looked around to see what was making them dance, and ended up sitting on the stairs, feeling left out. Her mother had run off sobbing. It took Hera a few minutes to fit everything together, then she threw the usual childish fit. Even as she grew up, she tended to have the same fits, smashing the keys, trying to hear something. All she ever felt were small vibrations.
(to be CONTINUED)
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Posted: Sun Mar 12, 2006 4:59 pm
SkellingtonQueen "Sugar drops and acid rain That's what teens are made of Sugar drops for the blurred sight Acid rain for the stupid fights Sugar drops and acid rain Keep us in our childhood frame" ....I like that part.... mrgreen
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