Look To My Eskimo Friend
What is left to do when I am now at a loss for words even when I have so much going on in my head. I have never been one who communicates with great ease with anybody and the harder I try the more I fail. It would probably be easier to be six feet down, maybe then I would give them something to talk about. Another apology or belated excuse won't do, just give me the fucking truth. This is about no one in particular and even applies to myself because at times I am also guilty of the same practice.
It's pretty amazing that the only consistent thing in my life comes on a 6" piece of plastic. It seems to be the only thing that doesn't wither and fade in a matter of days. Everything I want to say I keep inside because in a way I guess I believe that the happiness of several shouldn't be destroyed by the sadness of one. I don't even know if I'm sad maybe just frustrated and confused about absolutely everything in this world except for music. Except I'm constrained to only listening to music and not creating it because I have no musical ability even when I honestly try.
I don't want pity or sympathy, like I said earlier just give me the fucking truth. I'm sorry for swearing but it's a fact of life, if they weren't meant to be used they would not have been created. Although my mind still has so many more thoughts repeating in my head I'm not going to write them because it loses all its worth once it is said.
Lastly, today was the funeral for Sabrina Ford, and although I did not attend because unless it is my own I cannot handle being at a funeral. I just want to give one last farewell to her and hope she is enjoying herself in heaven.
Eskimo by Damien Rice
Tiredness fuels empty thoughts
I find myself disposed
Brightness fills empty space
In search of inspiration
Harder now with higher speed
Washing in on top of me
So I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
When I'm down, down, down.
Rain it wets muddy roads
I find myself exposed
Tapping doors, but irritate
In search of destination
Harder now with higher speed
Washing in on top of me
So I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
When I'm down, down, down.
When I'm down, down, down.
When I'm down, down, down.
It's pretty amazing that the only consistent thing in my life comes on a 6" piece of plastic. It seems to be the only thing that doesn't wither and fade in a matter of days. Everything I want to say I keep inside because in a way I guess I believe that the happiness of several shouldn't be destroyed by the sadness of one. I don't even know if I'm sad maybe just frustrated and confused about absolutely everything in this world except for music. Except I'm constrained to only listening to music and not creating it because I have no musical ability even when I honestly try.
I don't want pity or sympathy, like I said earlier just give me the fucking truth. I'm sorry for swearing but it's a fact of life, if they weren't meant to be used they would not have been created. Although my mind still has so many more thoughts repeating in my head I'm not going to write them because it loses all its worth once it is said.
Lastly, today was the funeral for Sabrina Ford, and although I did not attend because unless it is my own I cannot handle being at a funeral. I just want to give one last farewell to her and hope she is enjoying herself in heaven.
Tiredness fuels empty thoughts
I find myself disposed
Brightness fills empty space
In search of inspiration
Harder now with higher speed
Washing in on top of me
So I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
When I'm down, down, down.
Rain it wets muddy roads
I find myself exposed
Tapping doors, but irritate
In search of destination
Harder now with higher speed
Washing in on top of me
So I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
When I'm down, down, down.
When I'm down, down, down.
When I'm down, down, down.
