Edit, 2009: Moved the lyrics from the body of the main post to the comments.Here are the lyrics:Don't Let GoYou say I miss the sunshine. I swear I'm losing time. I don't recognize the warning signs, and I haven't yet seen any peace of mind. So don't let go, and don't lose sight. I can't go alone. This is a bad time to say good-bye.With the rhymes I discovered in my sleep, I've been wandering through your junkyard in the rain. Every face looks much the same, as it always has.I don't get it. I'm bored and tired and selfish. I know this is a bad time. But the real world is useless now.Gypsy (Song for Emily)You sparkle like a Gypsy. You talk about joining the Army. I heard you've been trying to auction through the mineshaft of my loose attention.She's giving me hell for shaking you off. She's crying because she thinks I'm throwing you away.You throw around disrespectful clauses, though I see you looking at me out of the corner of your eye. And you, without the attitude that keeps you safe.I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just waiting for the time to tell you that I love you without the vodka and the jive. I'm waiting for you to be sober and alive.I think you're very pretty. You have hands of an artist, and I think you have a lot of souland the mind to weave around it. But it will take a bit more time to get to know you, and it will take longer than this to understand. And still she's giving me hell for shaking you off. She's crying because she thinks I'm throwing you away.RepairHe was waiting for satisfaction. He was waiting for repair in between the distractions of breaking the cross he bears. Nothing ever got better but he stood up every time. Is he a hero or is he a failure each and every time?He called his mom yesterday to tell her they got him again. He lasted over a month this time before the fear brought him in. She sighed and coughed and worried, but not as much as she used to. The crisis meant next to nothing. It's just something she got used to. Ten days before, he was free man breathing free air, a few dollars in his pocket, a day beyond repair.It didn't seem to matter anymore that his freedom would be lean. That day he sang a happy song. That day he felt clean. His whole life grew in pairs, half of them in, half of them out. All the while his sanitycoming through in bouts. All his life had left him. He was beyond all degrees, but on the days he was good, he felt open, high, and free.Something Good Is ShiftingSomething good is shifting in the great big monotone. The casualties are lifting, but I wish you were home. I'm so tired the shadows are gestures, and a phone call is heaven. The eye-hole in the door needs a metal curtain. My world is a contradiction: I'm always making sense, though I'm not paying attention to where you just went.I'm stubborn but truly sleepless. My eyes burn to stay open. They close to a world and my mind isn't what you'd imagine. Even if my nerves are like frayed barbed wire, you can still say "I love you." I can still follow through.
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