Saturday, 20th July 2013
So there's this band project I'm in with 6 other people, we're still very much in the experimental stages at the moment, playing each other's songs and getting to know each other better.
Here's a version of one of my songs 'No Heart's a Wasteland' which was done on the first (and only) rehearsal so far with all 7 of us.
It's very much a long term project and will no doubt continue to evolve in many ways.
Saturday 20 July 2013
Thursday 11 July 2013
Thursday, 11th July 2013
What if I said I was sorry? Would it make much sense to crawl when I've apologised countless times and changed nothing at all?
Inside the dogs are barking. I'm a booze hound on the run. But when I stop and the dust has cleared I can see what I have done.
Words get turned to bullets with shots of alcohol, and I'm in a million pieces but I want to be a whole.
Do you have 2 wings I could borrow? I will bring them back in time. You can keep my arrows I just want to find my mind.
I hope that one day my words will mean something again.
I hope that one day I will be good enough to love you like you should be.
What if I said I was sorry? Would it make much sense to crawl when I've apologised countless times and changed nothing at all?
Inside the dogs are barking. I'm a booze hound on the run. But when I stop and the dust has cleared I can see what I have done.
Words get turned to bullets with shots of alcohol, and I'm in a million pieces but I want to be a whole.
Do you have 2 wings I could borrow? I will bring them back in time. You can keep my arrows I just want to find my mind.
I hope that one day my words will mean something again.
I hope that one day I will be good enough to love you like you should be.
Monday 8 July 2013
Monday, 8th July 2013
Saturday night.
Two birthday gatherings on one day. A mini pub crawl. Bowling. Last trains missed. 1 too many people for the taxi. Bottle of wine and an East London pavement to house on. Shared words and wine and cigarettes with a man and his begging girlfriend. Poor man almost cried when I asked him about his past "Don't make me think of sad things, I can't think of sad things". A battery dead phone. A £25 taxi on a gamble to an insomniac friends house. An answer. What a saviour. No sleep, emotionally frayed, unworthy guest. Broken phone cable. Work. £1 in bank account.
Home. Sleep.
Saturday night.
Two birthday gatherings on one day. A mini pub crawl. Bowling. Last trains missed. 1 too many people for the taxi. Bottle of wine and an East London pavement to house on. Shared words and wine and cigarettes with a man and his begging girlfriend. Poor man almost cried when I asked him about his past "Don't make me think of sad things, I can't think of sad things". A battery dead phone. A £25 taxi on a gamble to an insomniac friends house. An answer. What a saviour. No sleep, emotionally frayed, unworthy guest. Broken phone cable. Work. £1 in bank account.
Home. Sleep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)