It's The Wind
Feel that? It’s the wind,
and it’s pulling me.
Moving me again.
I’m sorry I ~ I thought we were safe.
But oh, oh God how long has it been?
Wait, please. Let me explain,
I never meant to damage you darling.
Can you forgive all this pain?
I truly believed I could stay here.
But then ~ then with the wind came the rain.
I love you and I promise ~ I promise I care,
only, inside I am empty.
Look for yourself, nothings there.
I don’t know how to be different, but if I did,
I would, I swear.
Feel that? It’s the wind,
and it’s killing me.
A growing rage within.
I am holding on, but I feel it.
Soon the tears will begin.
I’ll hurt you, I will.
And I will hate myself for it,
Blind and aimless I’ll go for the kill.
With out control I’ll continue,
until the anger inside is quiet and still.
It’s not who I am, it’s who I have been.
It’s not what I want,
it’s not for the win.
It’s an internal fury ~ my black, black storm.
Feel that? It’s the wind.
(And I am sorry.)
and it’s pulling me.
Moving me again.
I’m sorry I ~ I thought we were safe.
But oh, oh God how long has it been?
Wait, please. Let me explain,
I never meant to damage you darling.
Can you forgive all this pain?
I truly believed I could stay here.
But then ~ then with the wind came the rain.
I love you and I promise ~ I promise I care,
only, inside I am empty.
Look for yourself, nothings there.
I don’t know how to be different, but if I did,
I would, I swear.
Feel that? It’s the wind,
and it’s killing me.
A growing rage within.
I am holding on, but I feel it.
Soon the tears will begin.
I’ll hurt you, I will.
And I will hate myself for it,
Blind and aimless I’ll go for the kill.
With out control I’ll continue,
until the anger inside is quiet and still.
It’s not who I am, it’s who I have been.
It’s not what I want,
it’s not for the win.
It’s an internal fury ~ my black, black storm.
Feel that? It’s the wind.
(And I am sorry.)
1 Comments:
I don't know why, but if I read this and others, its like I'm reading things that apply to me as well. I found it welcome when I first read your blog, in that I don't know, its like you were like a muse, a refershement of attituteds of other people, well certainly your english compaired to mine.
A storm or a volcanoe, or the two, sometimes lifes events fill the buckets to fast, and the only way to relax a bit is to loose some water. Its a saying in dutch, when something is just to much then there is to much water in the bucket or more precisly the drop that it makes it to much.
Reminds me in a way of the songs, the will of the wind, and metalic rain from Vangelis. And somehow of some songs of Whitin Tempation, and Death in Vegas, Hands around my throat. Although the connection may be far to look for.
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