Serendipity

The laws of chance, strange as it seems,
Take us exactly where we most likely need to be
[David Byrne]

quinta-feira, 25 de outubro de 2007

Take a look at my body
Look at my hands
There's so much here
That I don't understand

Your face saving promises
Whispered like prayers
I don't need them

‘Cause I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable

Well contempt loves the silence
It thrives in the dark
With fine winding tendrils
That strangle the heart

They say that promises
Sweeten the blow
But I don't need them
No, I don't need them

I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable

I'm a slow dying flower
In the frost killing hour
Sweet turning sour
And untouchable

O, I need the darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
O, I need this

I need a lullaby
A kiss goodnight
Angel sweet
Love of my life
O, I need this

I'm a slow dying flower
Frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour
And untouchable

Do you remember the way
That you touched me before
All the trembling sweetness
I loved and adored?

Your face saving promises
Whispered like prayers
I don't need them

I need the darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
O, I need this

I need a lullaby
A kiss goodnight
The angel sweet
Love of my life
O, I need this

Well is it dark enough?
Can you see me?
Do you want me?
Can you reach me?
Or I'm leaving

You better shut your mouth
And hold your breath
And kiss me now
You'll catch your death
O, I mean this

[Natalie Merchant, «My Skin»]