Saturday, January 29, 2011

Turn the Page

Crescendo crashes down, and your world falls apart around you. Beat echoes in your head, the weeping guitar pours its notes into your head, your ears ring, and you disappear. Everything around you is obliterated, you're left in a totality, you're left in a darkness, you're left in a void between lives. You want to scream, you want it to stop, yet you don't want it to ever end.

There I go, left the spotlight, left the stage. Let you follow me into light. Let you follow me with eyes that don't miss a thing. Here I am. Do you see what you wanted to see? There I go, I'm walking once again. One time's not enough, you have to dog my steps again. Footsteps pad behind me, I look behind but can't see a thing. I'm paranoid, can't you tell?

And yet, when you're not there, I feel much too alone. I lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts running through my head. My conscience paces back and forth, like a tiger trapped in a cage; that trap you set for me. Next night it is the same thing, as each night it was before; can't be rid of the image, of the you I knew before.

In the evening I get up, I get out. I go where they expect me to stand, I go where you last saw me. I start a brand new song, about the same old thing. I drum a hell lot harder, I strum a hell lot faster, I scream a hell lot louder. Feel like I should explode. It's the cliché played over and over like a black and white film. And then I hear the silence. You aren't around any more.

Out there you're doing something new. In here, in this dark with its flickering spotlight, I play a show that no one sees, too taken by another; too taken by you. I can't remember what you said, I can't remember what I did. I miss the way you used to step behind, the way you used to make me fear. My heart beats, but it's because I can't sense you anymore. So I return each night, and I tell the same old story, be rid of all my energy, every last drop, so I might sleep again, the way I did before. Before the insomnia took hold, before I lost. If I play away my energy, maybe I'll play away my hate, play away my pain, and play away my emptiness. I don't feel like writing anymore, I don't feel like painting, just feel like playing it all away; won't you take it all away?

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