[post in lyrics] Emmy is Great [she has a Pixies cover]

If you go to sleep tonight you'll be older when you wake. One man is the parachute and the other is the knife that cuts the brake. First we were born then we slowly ran out of luck. You are still not Charles Bukowski and I am still not Diane Cluck. And I would suck the life from you if there was any left to suck. And I would love you if you told me there was something there to love. I would marry you for money or for luck. I would marry you for money but I don't suppose you'll ever have enough. The man on the screen has done more in a minute than you have achieved in your whole entire life. When you finally realise I was the best thing you had in it. If one man is the cancer then I guess the other is just the knife that makes the cut. I'll be sorry that you happened to me. If one man is the accident, I'm looking for the hand to stop the blood.





We are CDs, car keys, diaries; my family kept these secretly.





Aiko, geography has got the better of us again. I am to be singing to the tail of an aeroplane. So you run towards the things you haven't got, just to say goodbye again. But do you think of me as he unlocks your knees?



I know you're going soon; it's ok, I won't freak. Can see it in your eyes, you've been moving out for weeks. You've found a girl. She's so much prettier than me, she's much cleverer than me, she's so much happier than me. You want a lover who takes time over her looks, not some stupid kid who's always wrapped up in her books. But can I help it if a sentence makes me cry? You see I only ever read because I wish I was as brave as them.



All we do is fight. I've loved you so long I don't know who I'd be without. What does it mean to be American? Is it feelings, coffee and I'll be there for you? Later on me and a bottle will hook up to have some fun, then I'll call your house at twelve to let you know that I'm drunk. There is this book he lent to me something like seven months ago; I'm gonna burn it in the street, be so kind as to let him know. I'm dealing with this badly and could he please get back to me? Wake shaking from the knowledge that the mattress holds your shape. I assume my phone is dead because it hasn't rung for months. We'll be strangers who were lovers.



I dreamed of her always, even when I don't feel her name on my tongue and her blood in my stream. She reminds me of a chess game with someone I admire.



I sleep until the point when I'm awake. I came and I was bored of it soon after but I had nowhere to go and so I stayed. The morning fills my mouth up with decay; I like it, it reminds me how you taste. Sometimes I feel you rising up behind me like the wind but I still try to look away.



Is all that we've become just nothing but hats and bags? We're waiting for taxi cabs and you light cigarettes and I'm taking drags. In the air, a sea of words that didn't come soon enough. We are all impermanent.



I couldn't see, missed you so much, missed you so large I had to fuck between your sheets, all charred with grief, the pillows tainted with your dreams. I will be brave. I will pour whiskey on your grave.



I remember how we met but your name I forget.



This is the last chapter of our correspondence. I hope that after time goes past you can remember me with fondness. It's better to forget than fill your head with memories.



Now I'll sing about women who have sex with men. Don't just talk about something you don't understand. If you really crave action, come start a fight. Cocaine makes you so fucking lame. Apparently, where there is smoke, you'll find fire, but in your eyes I can't see passion; just a girl with a cigarette whose one desire is to go through life being fashionably small. All your posturing makes me forget you exist. Nighttime was made for the young. So honey your accent and ready your tongue. We'll make an unholy mess out of your party dress. Let's flirt with some sin. We're humans, we're weak, we cheat and we lie.



I want to jump and take you with me when I fall.



Pack your stuff and what you love and head for higher ground.



I still remember holding my hand against your face just before it was sprayed across the radio as it played. There's one where there used to be two. Who's going to wash all the blood from my clothes?



I'm lonely like a hermit. I'm emptier than glass. My guitar annoys you so you can stick it up your arse. Lately we're discussing the Bronte sisters three; my guitar likes Charlotte but I dig Emily.



I'm having a party but you're not invited. What a shame that you're not here because you're not my friend anymore; you've made your position quite clear from your distance. What crime have I done that negates my existence? Tomorrow I will find a new friend from the new friend shop. And I hate you as much as I miss you.