Tuesday, October 25, 2011
I sometimes still think I hear his voice
In the words I hear myself say.
I think I see him in the crowd,
But I can’t get to him before he fades away.
I’m still not convinced this is all real;
I’m hanging on to the chance that it’s not.
It’s not the reality I want,
But painfully it’s the only one I’ve got.
Do you know how it is when your world,
Your reality, and everything go?
The colors, they fade,
And time moves too fast or too slow.
When you realize there’s only so little you can sleep,
You wish it’d been a nightmare and hope for a dream
And you see that the medicine cabinet’s only so deep
But this is one thing that is just exactly as it seems.
The hot-lava tears that run down your face
And the sad songs that seem to repeat
When you’re lying in your bed with the curtains drawn
Still feeling so unbelievably beat
I still think it’s him
When I go to answer the phone.
When I drive in the car
And I don’t feel like I’m alone.
I wake up in the morning
Lay my head down at night
And think there’ll never be a point
When things go back to feeling just right.