Wednesday, January 17, 2007

loved "who" first?

“You are my sweetest downfall - I loved you first…” - Samson by Regina Spektor

gone through it once, gone through it twice,
The joy, the pain, the truth, the lies

Oh so not a game…no, not for the wise…
Unless you can hide that pain in your eyes…

Question is, who loved who first?
Is it a need, a hunger, a thirst?
Oh dear, you both are cursed
With a wonder, a doubt, on who loved who first…

But even if it were or were not you who did…
It is never easy to let go and get rid
Of the one you wish to be forever with…
Put away in a jar, tightly seal the lid…

The question should not be who, but how and why
And what made you smile and laugh and cry…

How much love did you give, how much love do you know?
Is it a ready, a get set and a go?
Or is it like playing tic, playing tac, playing toe?
Oh no…

Who loved who first? Who loved who more?
True love never ever really keeps score

Who loved who first? Hmmm…let us see
There can only be one answer, either you or me

But here’s a truce, a truth that is fair
Tell it like it is, to play this little dare

Who loved me first?
You did?…sigh
Who loved you more?
Oh?…well, so did I

Thursday, January 11, 2007

your truth be told...

Coming full circle…to the moon and back
Your heart turns red, turns blue, then

Going around in circles…you feel high, you feel low
You stand and endure
every hit…
every blow

You’ve been there, done that…
you get tired sometimes
You’ve been there, done that…
yet nothing rhymes

But look back …just for a second…and recognize
The you that you’ve become…just now…and realize

That just as you ask for more…you actually have enough
That your aching heart forgives even when you act tough…

Do let it go, whatever it is…life is actually good
the silver lining is there… embrace it if you would.

Free yourself…breathe and just be
The soul you’re meant to be, the soul they never see

Be brave…don’t hold back..release and behold
The true color of your heart… as your truth be told

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

call it a day...

swiftly gone, they’ve waltzed by so fast…
oh the seconds, the minutes, the hours
Whoever said they can ever really last?
They won’t look back coz they’re not ours

Oh the seconds the minutes the hours that came and went…
Left you broken, left you tired, left you spent
Another year has passed and your heart is big yet bland
Tell me…why do you always keep it in your hand?

Has anyone ever said you’re beautiful?
Or they told you you were ugly?
Do you enjoy acting like a fool?
Or maybe… you’re just really unhappy?

You say you’re sad while everyone’s celebrating…
You have more than anyone can ever receive
you realize there’s more to just being entertaining…
Yet you never seem to have faith…never seem to believe…

You confuse your heart for your mind
You make believe, you live and believe your own lies
You have eyes that see yet you are blind
So now then, why don’t your smiles ever reach your eyes?

Go listen to what you really wish for you
What does your kept soul say?
Go till it bleeds you dry yet true
And only then can you call it a day.


Some of us fear so much what lies ahead
To face the truth the minute you get out of bed

Should we really stop, should we really start?
Should we let things mold us or tear us apart?

So many things to do, so much more to be
try to find yourself in everything you hear and see…

You’re faced with swift moves and slow dances
And you realize that you actually get second chances

Hopes and aspirations are always good
Hold on to your dreams, live life like you should

But there’s a quiet comfort in not knowing
When you seize to be or where your life is going…

Some things are better left unsaid, some better left undone.
Even after you’ve tried every trick in the book and under the sun.

You sit and stare, you listen in silence.
You take in some darkness, soak up some reverence

Some things are better left that way…
You just absorb it quietly like an essay...

just the relief of knowing, of accepting...
not whether you're coming nor going...

It’s not about a purpose that has diminished
just the reality of things unfinished.