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Showing posts from May, 2006


I wrote this a couple of years ago, when I was alone in a hotel room at Christmas time.

Are you getting enough oxygen?
You might as well take mine
I'm not using it for living
I can never find the time

But I'm not really being honest
I started out with time to spare
But I never spent it living
I could never find the air

I guess I'm not making sense
I'm only wasting all these words
I use them up like time and oxygen
They're rarely ever heard

If the world's so big why can't I see it?
Maybe I should raise my eyes
All I see is rain on pavement
And the street light makes it shine

Think about the things in stories
Like the red sunset clich├ęs
I was looking out the window
Looks like my oxygen is grey

Giving up on making sense
The only thing that's true
Potential wasted just like oxygen
And nothing left to do

Unless I get the hang of breathing
I never got the hang of breathing
Later on I will try breathing