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Literature Text
What is the difference?
Between you and me?
Well the difference is,
Is that I can see,
Well, what is the difference?
It's cause of what I can see!
I used to believe in nothing,
Then came the day I met you,
Now I believe in something,
You told me all the lies weren't true,
And I don't remember who I was,
I just remember your face,
I'm not sure quite why if it's because,
I do remember being put in my place,
What is the difference?
Between you and me?
Well the difference is,
Is that I can see,
Well, what is the difference?
It's cause of what I can see!
And with everything considered,
I think I'll still love you anyway,
Whatever you say just ends up blurred,
Everything, even if it was just today,
But this is me getting what I deserve,
It's my own fault for living in now,
You'll run history not straight, but curved,
Learn from it rather than again be let down,
What is the difference?
Between you and me?
Well the difference is,
Is that I can see,
Well, what is the difference?
It's cause of what I can see!
And now that it's all said and done,
The cards down, all bets are off,
The horse gone in a race already won,
I should have changed, but I've already lost,
Between you and me?
Well the difference is,
Is that I can see,
Well, what is the difference?
It's cause of what I can see!
I used to believe in nothing,
Then came the day I met you,
Now I believe in something,
You told me all the lies weren't true,
And I don't remember who I was,
I just remember your face,
I'm not sure quite why if it's because,
I do remember being put in my place,
What is the difference?
Between you and me?
Well the difference is,
Is that I can see,
Well, what is the difference?
It's cause of what I can see!
And with everything considered,
I think I'll still love you anyway,
Whatever you say just ends up blurred,
Everything, even if it was just today,
But this is me getting what I deserve,
It's my own fault for living in now,
You'll run history not straight, but curved,
Learn from it rather than again be let down,
What is the difference?
Between you and me?
Well the difference is,
Is that I can see,
Well, what is the difference?
It's cause of what I can see!
And now that it's all said and done,
The cards down, all bets are off,
The horse gone in a race already won,
I should have changed, but I've already lost,
Literature
Shadows
Shadows
The little girl never slept very well. She didnt like the dark. In her twilight lit, dusty room, she watched the gas lamps outside flicker and fade, casting eerie shadows dancing on her walls, which scared her more. When she did sleep (which was in snatches), she dreamt that the shadows on her wall would come alive and drag her away into their evil world. Her father laughed when she told him, telling her that big girls never had nightmares. Shaking her head weakly, she snuggled deeper into her covers, trying to block the shadows away. For a while, it was working and the girl drifted into light fearless sleep. Then
A grat
Literature
Brevity
On the night when worlds meet at the veils of existence
I had a dream
It left me with a cold grip in my heart and a burning acid in my veins
It wasn't the first, and surely won't be my last
But in this night I felt it more clearly than I saw it
And it left me in fear I had never before known
Nor ever want to have again
For it felt as if I had walked in a night of a world at-end
It had not the feel of the world I live in.
The light filtered differently through the air as if the very composition of whatever the inhabitants existed in was not the same as what I am now.
Gravity as a force felt odd, but not so fully as I moved down a long dark ca
Literature
Fruitbat
A portrait is a flat mechanism.
In suit and tie or dress, some stooped
at the base of couches dragged into frame
and then left there, staring forward.
It does not matter who, the people in portraits belong
to the immaculate house of the past
where no one has ever lived
and the furniture is simple wood
propped up by a dowel or a sheaf of papers,
solid oak wrapped tight with gossamer thin cloth.
Even this is untrue, for the ones who know
about gossamer are now dead, stock set
in memories born still
for the things hinted in them had not happened.
The brown tinged wood was not illuminated
by a light cast outside the photograph,
swaying in a foye
Suggested Collections
Another new song written for the new album for my band.
Just as an update,
Band: Barefoot
Old Album: Too Rare
New Album: Of the Same Name
This was written because I've noticed the sometimes startling differences between my friends and me.
Same Similar musical direction, less grungy, more quiet and somber.
Just as an update,
Band: Barefoot
Old Album: Too Rare
New Album: Of the Same Name
This was written because I've noticed the sometimes startling differences between my friends and me.
Same Similar musical direction, less grungy, more quiet and somber.
© 2009 - 2024 That-one-other-dude
Comments262
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this is really good!