Why do I keep remembering these things? Contemplative me... |
Curse these contemplative moods of mine Drawing me back to your side Making me think of saving you from your foe Yourself. Curse these contemplative sides of me That I didn't know existed Until you drew your weapon And carved flesh from bone With your very words. Curse these contemplative thoughts of mine That return to you, right on cue To remind me of words you spoke And the girl you led to someone else Within the confines of herself Curse these contemplative words of mine That make me ponder you and us and finally her Wondering what fits together in my quest for knowledge Is there something I'm missing? Something I didn't see? Curse these contemplative thoughts of mine Curse these sides of me, that shouldn't be I'm too young to feel this old This used and worn and tattered I'm too young with too much life to live To feel so inadequate and small to myself I'm too young to feel this damn gone. Curse these damned contemplative moods Damn these moods to the hell That I'm sure is only in my head The hell where our memories are waiting For the smallest chance to crush my walls And break me. Curse this person you brought to life Through your gun and sheath and sword Curse this woman who stands before you Changed. Jaded. Fed up. Wishing for understanding Yet slamming doors; burning bridges Of the only ones who know Screw knowledge. I'd rather watch it burn. I'd rather watch the flames engulf The memories of the place that I once knew Curse this contemplative me Thinking about you. |