IRC-Galleria

The rain, it started tapping
on the window near my bed.
There was a loophole in my dreaming,
so I got out of it.
And to my surprise
my eyes were wide and already open.
Just my nightstand and my dresser
where those nightmares had just been.

So I dressed myself and left them,
out into the gray streets.
But everything seemed different
and completely new to me.
The sky, the trees, houses, buildings,
even my own body.
And each person I encountered,
I couldn't wait to meet.

And I came upon a doctor
who appeared in quite poor health.
I said "there is nothing that I can do for you
that you can't do for yourself."
He said "Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand.
I think that would help." So I sat with him a while
and then I asked him how he felt.
He said, "I think I'm cured. In fact, I'm sure.
Thank you stranger, for your therapeutic smile."

So that is how I learned the lesson
that everyone is alone.
And your eyes must do some raining
if you are ever going to grow.
But when crying don't help
and you can't compose yourself,
it's best to compose a poem,
an honest verse of longing or a simple song of hope.
And that's why I'm singing,
"Baby, don't worry, cause now I got you back.
And every time you feel like crying,
I'm gonna try and make you laugh.
And if I can't, if it just hurts too bad,
then we will wait for it to pass,
and I will keep you company
through those days so long and black.
And we'll just keep working on the problem
we know we'll never solve,
of Love's uneven remainder, our lives are fractions of a whole."

But if the world could remain
within a frame like a painting on a wall.
Then I think we would see the beauty then.
We would stand staring in awe
at our still lives posed
like a bowl of oranges,
like a story told
by the fault lines and the soil.

Bright Eyes - Bowl of Oranges