There's nothing I wouldn't give to feel the way that I did when I was young and didn't know what I would miss.

I'm getting good at saying goodbye. Attachments happen frequently, but frequently they die. I fall in love with everyone I see in the street just because. 

I heard it on the radio, that pretty song that I didn’t know. I stopped and waited for a name but no such information came, and it hurt the way it always has when music comes to me then passes through my brain and body like a siv.

Flipping through this book of photographs that I took off the walls... oh god, it feels so small in here. It's been a while but it still hits me,every day and all at once but I don't mind, because I feel fine.

Morning's here, it's getting late. But for every hour I stay up, I find more things to say. I'll just smoke my last cigarette, and then I swear I'm done with it. 

Mistakes and Repeated Carelessness

I'm sorry, my behaviour must be quite alarming but I've been a mess since the morning when I woke up feeling blue about it. No, I couldn't explain to you why I'm feeling so angry, your bright eyes are making this all much worse.

You said, "Baby I love you" and you wept because I couldn't come to my senses fast enough to prove.

Now I'm driving alone in the car. I'm playing a show in the park. I'm wondering how I'm to sing for all these people I don't know. I have trouble with taking it slow. I'm an impatient individual. I'm sorry for the fuss.

Promises made, but not made to keep, leave holes in your chest and blood on your sleeve. And all of the sense you make but don't see it aint worth a cent and don't mean a thing.

Just cus you did does not mean you do. Just cus you think does not make it true. Just cus we are does not mean we still. Just cus we can does not mean we will.

In a constant state of freefall I imagine it would seem like the distance overhead us is the same as underneath. You've really got no idea that you are moving at all. What actually feels like flight turns out to be a fall.


I wander these streets with my head in my hands and I stare at my feet so I know where I stand. Every step followed up by the next, I move with my feet while I breathe with my chest.

I don’t feel alright, but I think I’ll be fine. If I just keep on moving I'll kill all the time between the place I just left and where I’ll see you next. I hope that’s enough but I’m not holding my breath.

There always will be space in-between where I find myself and where I want to be. I miss you, I miss you, I wish that I could kiss you. This distance between us has become an issue.

I feel such a mess ever since I left, and I’m doing my best...

But I can’t, I won’t, let’s just elope and head back to the coast where I know we could cope. Let’s wash our hands, let’s make amends and let’s not think of anything else. So please Madeleine understand that I’ve already lost all of my friends and I can’t lose you as well.

Regarding those two-hundred-ninety-odd days; there’s no way either of us could articulate what happened to us, and what changed in our hearts. Now that we’re home, we are farthest apart. I’m at my best when I walk all alone, I don’t need money, or drugs or my cellular phone. These feelings of mine that I could not describe are leading me on to leave everything I know behind.

But I can’t, please don’t leave me alone. I’m so sick of the road, I’ve got nowhere to go. I have washed my hands, I have made amends and I can’t stop thinking of everything else. So please Madeleine understand that I’ve already lost all of my friends and I cannot lose you as well.

My friends don’t know how much I miss them tonight. 

Oh My God

I found all my old things packed in cupboards, stubbornly waiting for me hung limp and splayed. Go on, let the day end. You don't need to stay awake so many hours, so long, so late. 

Let it come completely. Let it come and leave me. I know that there's no other way. Keep on write and reading. Keep on write and reading and maybe that will help it go away.

You're my one and only. You're my one and only. I could not replace you if I tried, I miss you more and more each day since we parted ways. Maybe I was wrong, if so, ok.

I don't miss the weather, but I miss the water and I miss my sister and both of my brothers because I'm drunk as hell on this bench in the dark, and I hate this city, and I hate this park. I still feel the same unmistakable ache, and I feel like a liar when we're face to face. I still look for comfort in all the wrong places these repeated mistakes, it's always the same shit.

Well it's nice to know where you will be. It comes and it goes, so suddenly. Oh my god, I feel so blue.


I can't get out of bed. So I'll sleep all day instead. Bad dreams run through my head about today and days ahead. The city shakes and breathes around me as I sleep. I'll make my make beliefs as my ceiling creaks with feet.

I could leave this room but I won't, because it's best, I suppose. You see I do and I don't believe in my ability to follow through with all the things that I implied that I would do. 

If I had the will, and I had youth, if I had stomach for the truth, I'd lift my coat and tip my cap and chase the dreams that I once had. But now and then I lose the plot and waste the time I haven't got to spare and sit and stare at nothing. God, I need to feel some something.

No, I don't chase paper because it gives me the blues. But I work hard every day and I get closer to the truth. 

By and by it all subsides, to different shades of black and white like pages I can hide behind in books I read to pass the time. But more and more, now I can see that I still make my make beliefs but what a mess, my memory does lack reliability. So I write these songs about myself, cus when I feel down it often helps. I pay my bills, I cook my meals, I take my time, I drag my heels. I've come to know real silence in this old empty house. And I've come to learn of all these things that I can live without. But every hill that I've conquered, and friend that I've let go, and love I've known and lost makes me miss everyone that I know.


There's a hole in my heart and a pain in my side and a reality from which I cannot hide. It sneers and it snarls and it laughs in my face, it says: "You got a limp, boy, and this is a race." So I count up my money, the change I've got left, it's enough to get drunk and buy more cigarettes. But these coins in my pocket, they rattle like bells, giving sound to the worst feeling I've ever felt.

I just want to stop, I need to break down but my feet keep on moving me over the ground. So I roll up a cigarette and open a drink I am too sad to talk and I don't want to think. My mind's like a fan that has been caught in the wind; once it gets going, it just spins and it spins. My thoughts, they just hang like the fruit on a tree, but they're either un-ripe or too rotten to eat. So they fall to the ground and they all rot away and I know that I too will submit to decay.

I feel nothing for love, and nothing for lust. I feel nothing but this overwhelming disgust. I feel nothing for you, and nothing for us. I feel nothing but this overwhelming disgust.

I had that same dream again, it drives me insane: it's the on where you run from someone till you wake. So I'll sweat in my sleep, until the morning light bleeds through the window I closed to drown out the street.

But the sound of your voice cuts through all of the noise in my head.

Back and Forth and To and Fro

Oh what a day it's been, the fool I was. What a mess, what have I gone and done to you? Just because I wanted to do good don't make it any use. So take this folded photograph away and don't you give it back because I don't want to think about you or anybody else. Maybe I'll just leave this town and find a field and just lay down and sleep until I dream that song that could explain exactly what's gone wrong with me. "What's wrong with me?" I'm all too often wondering. I know threre's nothing wrong with me, but I invent the strangest things.

Now there's an empty space where the garden was, everything dies just because. Its been a real bad couple months and I just can't seem to adjust to moods that swing like metronomes; go back and forth and to and fro. 

I've tried, but I don't understand the weight of a human hand. Every part escapes the reach and strength of both my hands and feet.

When I stop to think my heart does race at an uncomfortable pace because the biggest problem that I have is that I don't know what makes me sad. So I watch the days that come and go like I'm walking through the falling snow; I can see a path, and trace it back, but it will melt and leave no track. Well that's OK, because I've realized that even though I'm going to die I know right now that I'm alive and that's enough to get me by.

Though your memory persists you know the past does not exist at all.


I saw the panic that made your heart race. I watched all of the colour fall from you face. You told me that loneliness is just a state. You told me that loneliness will go away.

So baby sleep easy for me, for just tonight.

All of a sudden my energy bleeds on to all of my fingers like the ink from a cheap magazine. My hands are so dirty, and they won't wash clean of all of these empty people that I have been.

So baby sleep easy for me, so I can do the same.

Baby I'm sorry, but I can't change the way that I wake up feeling every single day. Well maybe tomorrow, when I'm OK, and everything is perfect, in every single way. We could be happy if I could change but I don't think that I'm able, at least not today.

So baby sleep easy.

My heart is a postcard that  couldn't send so I stuffed it inside of my pocket instead. Now it's burning and it won't last long So I hope you find it before it's gone.

Baby believe me, this time.

Baby I'm sorry, but I'm so damn afraid that after I've left I'll wish that I had stayed. And you won't be with me, you'll be so far away and you won't come home for three hundred days. My heart is a postcard that I don't want to send. I'd rather just give it to you instead.

Baby believe me, this time.


Maybe I'll write you in the morning if I wake up t find the time. I'll sit down with pen and paper and wrestle with words between two lines.

And I'll say that I'm not sorry for a single thing that I did. And I'm not sorry that it’s over. I may miss the life that I left behind so bad but I don’t miss you anymore.

The wrench in my cogs, the thorn in my hand my heart full of doubt, my mouth full of sand. Put your ear to my chest the ocean’s inside I'm more of a shell than I realize, it’s true.

I'm coming home soon, I don’t know what’s coming next. I feel like such a stranger when I am with my friends. But now I can be on my own, without feeling alone. And I mean what I say, when I say that I can change. So when you see me again, I will not be the same.

I keep looking for stars at the bottom of a bottle, I don’t want to stop but I know that I got a monkey on my back, and I’ve put my back in it, this room is on fire and I am still in it. So I'll step out the door and burst into tears for the things that I love and the things that I fear. Well I'm not scared of death but I am scared of life; the thought of it all keeps me up every night. It's the wrench in my cogs, the thorn in my hand my heart full of doubt, my mouth full of sand put your ear to my chest the ocean’s inside, I'm more of a shell than I realize.


I know that it has been said before, but not like this, or with these chords. I wish that I was someone else so I could sit down with myself, and maybe I could help explain these crazy thoughts I entertain about my life, and everything, like how it’s really happening right now.

I’m bored, I’m restless, disconnected, aimlessness has left me breathless. But my life has been redirected and I’m starting to accept this. So efforts now must be relentless because failures leave me so upset with myself, but I swear this is all that I love; you’re going to see exactly what I’m made of tonight.

As for the rest of my life, well, I’ll just wait and see what happens to me from here. So it seems, like all of the time I’m about to change my mind. I’m so niave, yet resolute after I've decided what to do. I can’t wear a tie on my collared shirt, I can’t get a job and just go to work. I’m worried sick like you wouldn’t believe have you any idea what this means to me?

Looking back now makes me laugh. I'm grateful I don’t want the things that I lack. Except for time, oh goddam me, when did free time become such a luxury? See, if I don’t do this while I'm young I'm certain that it wont get done. I've made my choice and it’s all right, I'm ready to really start living my life. So I swear to god that I will quit my job and drive until my car just stops.

I'll walk until I reach the ocean, maybe I will know what to do by then