i took this picture of some interesting tree branches downtown at twilight while out looking at elliott smith landmarks around portland.. (see the 'i love portland' album left).. he came out for this one i think..
can you see the little ghost on the left?
daily smith/half right
well.. you shouldn't doctor yourself
well.. i pictured somebody else
someone who looks like
what i look like..
would you say that the one of your dreams
got in you and ripped out the seams?
that's what i'd say..
that's what i'd say..
he was a sucker for your double dose
motherfucker turned white as a ghost
don't you say hi
don't you say hi
with a broken sink for a face
and a head that just takes up space
he's not half right
he's not half right
it's all that he half has
and it won't last..
i was sticking up for a friend
well.. there's nothing much to defend
it's a lost fight
it's a lost fight
'cause when i talk to you on the phone
well.. it's just like being alone
it's not half right..
it's not half right..
going nowhere
he waved hello silent like a mime
meaning there's no changing my mind
i won't walk the stairs with you tonight
going nowhere
the clock moved a quarter of a turn
the time it took her cigarette to burn
she said you got a lot of things to learn
going nowhere
i saw you move a certain way
missed you a lot
returned to this abandoned place
that shoulda been forgot
echoes drown a conversation out
echoes that only seem to bring about
a silent expression
easily read aloud
going nowhere
the steps made a pattern
i'd never seen
i felt like a kid of six or seventeen
i was off in some empty daydream
going nowhere
it's dead and gone and matter of fact
it may be for the best
you said some things you can't take back
honestly.. i guess
the old records
are sitting on the floor
the ones i can't put on anymore
you walked over to her like before
going nowhere
going nowhere
going nowhere
ghost & toxic
p.s. toxic has her own little world now<<<
when suicidal thoughts make it impossible to sleep at night i let them take another avenue and end up with another one of 'those' poems..
the night before when i did sleep i had some bizarre dreams with elliott smith's
'alternate' lines from 'king's crossing' going through my head the entire time.. so it's written in that style..
no place like home / la cara st.
when i was small i used to touch the world
now i can't open my eyes
put me in a bottle stopped up tight
and throw me out to sea for a long long ride..
the bright red ribbon.. sirens at night
xmas spirits and the 4th of july..
he'll be back out before the morning light
but the stars have fallen out of her sky..
there is no place left on the outside now that you want to be..
the face of the past still talks in my sleep
but you're too numb to talk back
like dynamite stuck in a beercan in a tree
put your fingers in your ears
and wait for the crack
you're moving through the motions
but you're holding still..
all along you're sure you're leaving
you never will
and she won't ever speak it
but you'll see it in her face
the long-lost history that can't erase..
you didn't catch it but the ghost of someone else wrote it down..
(you follow after the one
you say you love the most..
you're just a sickness
in the blood of your chosen host)
and all the words
are folding over on themselves repeating
you're listening close..
but they've lost all of their meaning..
your thoughts are a train wreck of things unsaid
you better cut deeper than that..
you better cut deeper than that..
you'll have to cut deeper than that..
ghost/toxic
p.s.
in keeping up this winchester mystery blog there are new things to discover all over.. here and at gumbyland..
Posted by: ghost | February 02, 2007 at 12:22 PM