..sits.. -- House of s.o.u.r.g.r.o.u.n.d

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Date Posted: 10:13:50 07/04/02 Thu
Author: Juliana
Subject: ..sits..

..//She sits on the front porch on a old, partially broken whicker chair with only an abused cushion between her and the abbrasive seat. One leg crossed she sat watching the sun rise in her grey sweat pants and black hugging tank top. In her lap sits Ethans acoustic guitar. Hers was missing the g string and she still hadn't replaced it. hehe g-string. She plays around with parts from songs. So soothing. She hated it in New York. Nothing was working out like it was supposed too anymore. grrr.
Oh life, its bigger, its bigger then you, and you are not me
The lengths that I would go too, the distance in your eyes
Oh no I've said too much, I said it all.
Thats me in the corner, thas me in the spotlight losing my religion
Trying to keep my view but i don't if i can do it, oh no I've said too much, I haven't said enough
I thought that i heard you laughing
I thought that i heard you sing
I think i saw you try
Every whisper, every waking hour
I'm choosing my confessions
Trying to keep my eye on you
Like a hurt, lost and blinded boy,
Oh no I've said too much, i said it all
She stops, chords produce slower from her fingers. Every whisper, every hour I'm choosing my confessions. Fucking city. She never sang in public, only by herself.

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