Who are we? We are our stories.

Friday, March 19, 2010

A Profound Piece of Pain

My daughter tells me this blog is depressing. Maybe. I have always been drawn to low songs. And when you get to Townes there isn't much lower, more pain to feel. It makes my life feel purely exhilarating. I can fly.



Hey mama, when you leave
Don't leave a thing behind
I don't want nothin'
I can't use nothin'

Take care into the hall
And if you see my friends
Tell them I'm fine
Not using nothin'

Almost burned out my eyes
Threw my ears down to the floor
I didn't see nothin'
I didn't hear nothin'

I stood there like a block of stone
Knowin' all I had to know
And nothin' more
Man, that's nothin'

As brothers our troubles are
Locked in each others arms
And you better pray
They never find you

Your back ain't strong enough
For burdens doublefold
They'd crush you down
Down into nothin'

Being born is going blind
And buying down a thousand times
To echoes strung
On pure temptation

Sorrow and solitude
These are the precious things
And the only words
That are worth rememberin'

3 comments:

Silk Hope said...

Neil:

We speak of bicycles nothing could more exciting (don't tell my wife that). And just think the Pinot Express is about to push. Man more McLean talk can't wait.

But come to think about it is a bunch of old farts talking bike parts. For your daughter that is about as exciting as watching grass grow.

Sigh... I digress.

Jack

M. Scle said...

After going through your post i just recalled my old memories when i used to have a bi-cycle and it used to be my most precious thing and i used to enjoy a lot riding my bmw.

Jonny Hamachi said...

It's like a mirror that shows one possible future.

This all happened before, it will all happen again.