Post by ShadowDucky on Jan 7, 2007 9:24:46 GMT 1
Right, storyage behind this one . . . one of my buddy's mother's died . . . and I couldn't help him . . . but as I was driving home the night after the funeral . . . well, you'll find out . . . my apologies for this not being beautiful, but I had to say it, and this is the only way I can express it without losing all of the meaning to flowery language.
Assuage
I'm sitting in back, on this hard wooden bench
Trying desperately not to cry
O, my friend, you hurt so badly
and I cannot hope to assuage your pain
You turn around, see a massive group
of friendly support - through your tears,
you manage a slight smile.
You have to carry her in,
Pallbearing your mother to the front of the room
But you're only seventeen - this is not right
Hell, even the pastor's crying,
nearly too hard to speak
And he's used to this.
Cold seeps inside of me as I see
You cry - but I'm sitting in back
And can't fix what's wrong
My damn tissues are all used up
(And I don't ever cry)
I want to rip your pain away,
Destroy it, and make you happy
But I'm unable.
We head to the cemetary
Where you must carry her to her grave
But you're only seventeen - this is not right
Now almost everyone is sobbing
Your massive group of friends cry too
And we're all coming to hug-attack you
There are no watery smiles now
Just bare, cold grief, the building clouds and sighing wind
and a group of outcast teens who care
Back for the luncheon wake
We quote Zim, and dance for you
You smile a bit - it's shaky, but it's there
And we know you're going to make it through
We're here, to be strong for you
I'm driving home in the windy dark
My resolve breaks as I stop at the lonely crossroads
Trees moaning in the dark wind
I turn off the car lights
and cry for endless moments
I miss her too, but there's a hole in your heart
You hurt so badly, and I can't fix it
But when I look up through the trees
I see some gentle snowflakes start to fall
And I know it's going to be okay
Assuage
I'm sitting in back, on this hard wooden bench
Trying desperately not to cry
O, my friend, you hurt so badly
and I cannot hope to assuage your pain
You turn around, see a massive group
of friendly support - through your tears,
you manage a slight smile.
You have to carry her in,
Pallbearing your mother to the front of the room
But you're only seventeen - this is not right
Hell, even the pastor's crying,
nearly too hard to speak
And he's used to this.
Cold seeps inside of me as I see
You cry - but I'm sitting in back
And can't fix what's wrong
My damn tissues are all used up
(And I don't ever cry)
I want to rip your pain away,
Destroy it, and make you happy
But I'm unable.
We head to the cemetary
Where you must carry her to her grave
But you're only seventeen - this is not right
Now almost everyone is sobbing
Your massive group of friends cry too
And we're all coming to hug-attack you
There are no watery smiles now
Just bare, cold grief, the building clouds and sighing wind
and a group of outcast teens who care
Back for the luncheon wake
We quote Zim, and dance for you
You smile a bit - it's shaky, but it's there
And we know you're going to make it through
We're here, to be strong for you
I'm driving home in the windy dark
My resolve breaks as I stop at the lonely crossroads
Trees moaning in the dark wind
I turn off the car lights
and cry for endless moments
I miss her too, but there's a hole in your heart
You hurt so badly, and I can't fix it
But when I look up through the trees
I see some gentle snowflakes start to fall
And I know it's going to be okay