The Worth of the World.

07/28/2010 § 13 Comments

Here goes with a long overdue lyrics post (to our side of a split 7″ with our friends in Touche Amore–out today, officially):

How I Feel and Why It Scares Me

I say a drink might help me sleep, I say
I don’t sleep much at all these days, I say it’s cold, 
Besides, I’m broken.
Hard as earth the love of the past,
The worth of the world has frozen
Still.
Like the sheet of ice collecting on the windshield of my car.
Where I caught my reflection frozen in the glass,
A perfect broken image of the future I’d envisioned in the past–
Corrupted by fate now, fractured, and fading away.

Replace all I felt promised to me.
To be the one who figured it out,
Who knew what to do,
Who knew how to feel and
Felt that
Love of the past,
The worth of the world,
Just set it ablaze and
Thaw me out.

Dim lit in a room dark red, where I said,
“Can’t seem to break off from the way I felt, but
I guess you understand, man. We had no chance.
I’m tired of fighting with the hand I’ve been dealt.

So, I take the cards they give me
And keep my protest on the inside of my mouth.
If the best I can do ain’t gonna stop what’s coming,
What’s the point in trying to change how the hand plays out?

Don’t we all just die?
When you looked at the light
Did it hurt your eyes?
When you looked at the light
Did it hurt you
Like it hurt me?
 
***

At times I’ve shouted out unprovoked, at the world and you,
Just to see if the people around me react.
Sometimes I think they’re all acting,
At times I’m scared that I’m acting too. Like,
My movements or stage directions?
Was that a change in topic or a beat in a scene?
Have I been taking my emotional cues from a script I wrote at sixteen?

Maybe I just think about it all so much 
That that the fear stays close to all the ghosts I’ve touched.
Makes me question
Was it love or just lust?
Caked in blood or old rust?
I don’t know. 

Don’t we remember all the moments we remember the best
Framed in poems and in pictures, sang aloud in refrains?
Does this cycle of pain and disdain for the past
Not work exactly the same?

Maybe it’s just as much about what comes our way as it is about how we react.
Just as much about the things that we’ve still got as it is about the things we lack.
I know we won’t always keep around all we feel we need–
some are fading in frames, some were born to leave–
But if we’re still here, and we still breathe,
I guess we’ve still got time to figure it out,
To know what to do, 
To know how to feel,
Know the things that I’ve been making up inside my head, and
To know what’s real.
I want to believe that the way I am is just the way things go.
For the things that came, not the things I chose 
to come. 
I want to know if I had any control.
I want to know if it’d comfort me.

And if my heart just stops, pack my memories in it–
I want to know all the love I’ve got.
And if my heart just stops, keep me alive for a minute–
I want to know if a curtain drops.

(end scene. or fin. or something)

Mostly, I hope this finds you all well. More, unrelated (or mostly unrelated, at least), soon.

yrs, Jordan.
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