[this is the place where I'll put any music-related posts, so they're easier for me to find... and so others can see what music inspires me]
Thursday, December 14
Monday, November 13
Eulogy For A Friend
The silence tells me all I need to know
You’re not here with me
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be
And all those times, you saved me from myself
Nights we’d talk ‘til twelve on the phone
Recordings of your voice echo through my mind
Reminding me that you’re not here, that you’re not here with me
The tears can tell them all they need to know
Like what’s really wrong with me
But the tears won’t come tonight
And all those times, I saved you from yourself
Nights we’d talk ‘til twelve on the phone
Pictures of your face make a slideshow in my mind
Reminding me that you’re not here, that you’re not here with me
With a razor to your wrist, watch the crimson flow
Pouring your life on the floor, did you think of me?
And all those times, you saved me from myself
Nights we’d talk ‘til twelve on the phone
Memories of you torture me inside
Make me wish that I could die, that I could die
And all those times, you saved me from myself
Nights we’d talk ‘til twelve on the phone
Memories of you torture me inside
Make me wish that I could die, that I could die…
With a razor to your wrist, will you think of me?
You’re not here with me
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be
And all those times, you saved me from myself
Nights we’d talk ‘til twelve on the phone
Recordings of your voice echo through my mind
Reminding me that you’re not here, that you’re not here with me
The tears can tell them all they need to know
Like what’s really wrong with me
But the tears won’t come tonight
And all those times, I saved you from yourself
Nights we’d talk ‘til twelve on the phone
Pictures of your face make a slideshow in my mind
Reminding me that you’re not here, that you’re not here with me
With a razor to your wrist, watch the crimson flow
Pouring your life on the floor, did you think of me?
And all those times, you saved me from myself
Nights we’d talk ‘til twelve on the phone
Memories of you torture me inside
Make me wish that I could die, that I could die
And all those times, you saved me from myself
Nights we’d talk ‘til twelve on the phone
Memories of you torture me inside
Make me wish that I could die, that I could die…
With a razor to your wrist, will you think of me?
Listen to this song at: http://www.purevolume.com/lindzreid
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