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The Great Depression


Daddy Bear
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i just found a bunch of stuff i wrote back in early '05 when i was in the grip of a dastardly funk that threatened to sweep me away. without the tools to cope with depression (having never experienced it before) and not yet aware of ENA, making up songs was the only thing that took the edge off.

 

and a one... and a two... cue guitar...

 

sitting on the bed inside his claustrophobic room

glaring at her picture on the wall

heart is drying out like he's been opened on a slab

and he doesn't feel his lower half at all

 

Miller cans are kicked around the rug in disarray

can't pull up the strength to get some more

shuts his eyes and glides into a moment long ago

i guess that's what our dreams are really for

 

is this a love song?

is this a love song?

 

well, i don't think that's what it is

because i'd write it so much better

i would find a happy ending

and i'd stretch it out much longer

but don't feel bad for our friend

because his story's not yet over

and if loneliness can't kill him

it will have to make him stronger

 

curled up on the sheet inside his darkened quiet tomb

picture hanging backwards on the wall

maybe not a love song but it's one that might have been

isn't that what dreams are after all

isn't that what dreams are after all

hey maybe

it's a love song

after

all

 

© 2005 Hear No Evil Music

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