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The Most Depressing Song
Contributed by
eyesxcriedxout1989
on
Sunday, 20th February 2005 @ 02:35:44 AM in AEST
Topic:
SongLyrics
|
My eyes are the guns that
Shoot the daggers through your heart
Your sobs like helicopters
Drowning in the furnace
And your rose tattoos look
More like bruises,
Well, they're bruising me
When you were crying
I was balling too
I was balling too
And crying is all you ever do
While you stayed up late
Smoking with your demons
Gossiping and laughing about
How Paris Hilton is such a whore
I was crying because
Simon Birch died for the eighth time
When you were smoking
I was crying over
Anything but you
And crying is all I ever do
I shot you with a gamma ray
You turned green and flew away
But you tripped and scratched your knees
On a sidewalk littered with my letters
You cried as you bled
All my letters are dead
I cried when you left
Like a stale winter breathe
I called you on the phone
Caught you home alone
You ripped my heart in pieces
All on your own
What a big girl you are
So I cried when you killed me
Just to let me off easy
You said it was you
So I cried
And you ******* shot me
Copyright ©
eyesxcriedxout1989
... [
2005-02-20 02:35:44]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Most Depressing Song
(User Rating: 1 )
by blowfish_jane on
Sunday, 20th February 2005 @ 04:11:08 AM AEST
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That was sad and powerfull Mason, good write hun.
Jane ^_^ |
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Re: The Most Depressing Song
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Tuesday, 8th March 2005 @ 08:06:43 AM AEST
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Your poetry is emotionally draining.
You really know how to conjure depression.
*lol *
Crying is rather contagious, yet I’m sure that isn’t the only thing you were attempting to convey.
I like that you have begun and ended this piece on the same note, which might be the bigger picture, you were trying to demonstrate.
“And your rose tattoos look
more like bruises,
Well, they're bruising me”
I liked this piece the most.
Imagery and symbolism portray a message, perhaps, not so obscure to yourself?
“While you stayed up late
Smoking with your demons
I was crying because
Simon Birch died for the eighth time”
I feel that this piece may have been more personal than you think?
Is this not a personal reference, which you share with the person in whom you write about?
My guess, anyway?
“On a sidewalk littered with my letters
You cried as you bled
All my letters are dead”
-I absolutely loved this.
The imagery, but more than anything the thought of someone having loved you enough to have written you countless of letter, enough to have littered a sidewalk. *Sigh * Oh so romantic!
You are so talented, Mason.
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