New Lyrics.

 "Anything"

I spill my blood on the stage
I shed my tears on the page
And that's not gonna change
And it's not gonna change anything
I do nearly everything right
To try and make it through the night
But that just won't do
And it's not gonna do anything
to change this
Can't think of a better way to say this

We fight for our wants and our needs
In different directions, at different speeds
Guess back then it was harder to see,
But you've always been, you'll always be
Too good for me...

I bite at the hands that used to feed
I run till my toes start to bleed
And that's not gonna change
And it's not gonna change anything
I can do the math, I can do the time
I can barely sing, I can barely rhyme
An that just won't do
And it's not gonna do anything
to change this
There's really no good way to say this.

We must have gotten lost along the way
The check is on the table, someone has to pay
I can see the end coming into view
Even if it's not that fair, it's totally true
You're too good          |
Too good for me         | x2
Sometimes I feel like I could
But you're just too good
You're too good for me
You're too good for me

You see me linger in the doorway, waiting
I guess I'm waiting for a sign
But I know you're gonna turn around
And close the door for the last time

{chorus}

We shouldn't have to settle another score
I don't have to matter anymore
And you're not gonna change
And you're not gonna change anything.

extemporaneous.

Once in a while, I like to write a poem without stopping, in five minutes or less, to see how I really feel. I write the title last, and I usually don't publish the poem, but I liked this one. here goes, guys.

"when Heaven comes to view"

if ifs and buts be candy and nuts, we all may go insane.
but if the world should see me through, my life may be in vain.
to take a walk to other worlds is not the greatest goal,
but greater still the urge to fill the newly empty soul.
How should I compose myself when Heaven comes to view?
And how deny that every word I write belongs to you?
See not my form, my given name, my dust returning slow,
but see my grace, my somber face, and all I wish to know.
Yes, do forgive the kindness and the patience I display,
For just as sadness melts to joy, the night brings forth the day.
The turning tide has not replied and neither will your word,
For such a supplication gives you only what you've heard.

And shore up feelings when they burst, that one day may we meet,
And stand again amidst our love with freshly covered feet.

First Happy Song Ever.

"Kansas"
by David Stevenson

I could drive up to Kansas and talk to the folks
About riches and power and girls
I could swim across the ocean and find someone else
To explain how my life has unfurled
I could look to the skies
I could open my eyes
As I dream of a wonderful world
But I don't want any of that
I only really want you.

I could run and crawl and scale all the walls
To find myself a home
I could fly to the heavens and fall with the sky
But I don't want to be that alone
I could think of the best things
That life has to offer
And how I could make them my own
But I don't want any of that
I only really want you.

here's that sonnet thing i wrote the other day.

it's a sonnet. kinda. i wrote it one night when i couldn't sleep. when i was done, i had miraculously gained the ability to shut my eyes for an extended period of time. therefore, i owe this poem several good hours of sleep and a burdenless chest, at least for a while.

"Objectified?"

She's more precious than a trophy and more priceless than a prize.
I see much more than a medal when I look into her eyes.
If I had the will to worship her, a statue would she be
But a statue like none other when her motion's what I need.
If I gave her once the kneeling grace to hang upon a wall,
Then such a flower seems too fine to tip itself and fall.
I'll plant it once and plant it twice, and give her what she needs
I'll nurture her with loving care and watch her leave her seeds.
But see, I lie when I objectify my truest love;
I fault her fast and and grant her slow the kindness that she drove.
I see in her the whole of what my soul desires to keep,
And still I drown within my love if love can be too deep.
But rush I not, for even now I still have failed to be
The one she loves, so she can see the objects within me.

why i even made this.

good job, Savana.

as if i have the time to waste on blogger, what with college-rushing and high school and music and running and all. seems like it's just another obligation to fulfill.

but hey, i have a lot to say every so often. and there needs to be a way to say it, to let out the emotions and allow my thoughts to linger so that they may not lose their place and die. such is the fate of many an inspired thought, many a dream not followed, many an option unconsidered; when we lose sight of what our minds create, it begins to disappear.

god only knows i don't want that to happen. thoughts are too precious to be left for dead.

so thank you, Savana. you've helped me in a way i couldn't have seen otherwise, and i appreciate it greatly.