I'm always rushing through the rapids, springing from a rock to the next on tiptoes fueled by careful aim. Nothing but that and dumb luck keeping me from getting splashed, and the slightest drop floods me with doubt and defeat.
"We'll correct collegiate mistakes,
A shower of formal ideals,
Completely soused,
"We'll correct collegiate mistakes,
A shower of formal ideals,
Completely soused,
The hearts on our sleeves,
As they drowned we could hear them screaming,
'Oh what a tragic way to see our final days.'
I attempt to talk up the town,
'The answers are in the arches of the 20th Century Towers and in
comfortable cars in motion.'"
So. Tired. Today was a good example. Everyone running around, questions in hand, and I literally cannot string two coherent words together. It's like my limbs feel too long and awkward, and I woke up with a reach I had no idea how to control. Fumbling, I'm five to five hundred steps behind everyone, and I'm furious for failing at what exactly I cannot say.
I have to believe that it's all this way for a reason, that I got here by aid of something more tangible than chance. But lying awake, alone for miles, how is that any comfort when I feel like a sympathy case, or worse a coward?
Although, I could make one hell of a sad mix CD back in the day. Surely, that counts for something.
"And yet it still remains, this incessant refrain:
'You're just like the rest. Your restlessness
makes you lazy.'
Keeping busy is just wasting time
And I've wasted what little he gave me.
All Around
I know the conscious choice was
Crystal clear,
To clean the slate of former years,
When I sang softly in your ear
And tied these arms around you."
~20th Century Towers
Death Cab for Cutie, The Stability EP
As they drowned we could hear them screaming,
'Oh what a tragic way to see our final days.'
I attempt to talk up the town,
'The answers are in the arches of the 20th Century Towers and in
comfortable cars in motion.'"
So. Tired. Today was a good example. Everyone running around, questions in hand, and I literally cannot string two coherent words together. It's like my limbs feel too long and awkward, and I woke up with a reach I had no idea how to control. Fumbling, I'm five to five hundred steps behind everyone, and I'm furious for failing at what exactly I cannot say.
I have to believe that it's all this way for a reason, that I got here by aid of something more tangible than chance. But lying awake, alone for miles, how is that any comfort when I feel like a sympathy case, or worse a coward?
Although, I could make one hell of a sad mix CD back in the day. Surely, that counts for something.
"And yet it still remains, this incessant refrain:
'You're just like the rest. Your restlessness
makes you lazy.'
Keeping busy is just wasting time
And I've wasted what little he gave me.
All Around
I know the conscious choice was
Crystal clear,
To clean the slate of former years,
When I sang softly in your ear
And tied these arms around you."
~20th Century Towers
Death Cab for Cutie, The Stability EP
