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Song Info
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.8 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
I got hit by a car.
Lyrics
Verse 1/
I'm watching rocks tryina claw it's way out potholes
"Another crater with a story to tell"
Sort of bored at this very moment on Queen's Boulevard
Fulla cars and people patchin smiles over bullet scars
I dunno where I'm goin or headin to
Leavin footprints as my existence's residue
Fortunes dressed in corsets lurin this poor kid
to reach for the sky filled with explodin mortars
The pen is mightier than the sword is, so I
stab myself harder with it till the blood is pourin
Somewhere on the otherside of the world
an orphan's thinkin the same thing while he or she is snorin
I'm jus a ghost tryina melt into the people
But still lookin both ways for incomin vehicles
...
Then, there she was, she was a bit tall
especially in relative to other women I saw
An inch or two below me, hair dancin slowly
Blue eyes behind glasses, you could catch her soul sing
Lookin at me like she knows me, she floated over
and I told her I could write poems about a rose's sting
She wasn't very impressed but gave the digits
Now lemme fast forward the tape a little bit
That glance gave birth to kisses that fell on muted lips
and movin hips nude in Jerusalem, years reduced to
a few minutes like time's movin quick
confused till a view of lips eclipsed and soothed my wounded wings
I'd bury bogie after bogie in it's own remains
in an ashtray havin conversations with this angel
Stare up at her halo, clink our corona's
in this brave new world nibblin on our soma
One moonlit night, the perfect backdrop
a few illuminated clouds as God's handcock
She told me of the times at night when she would cry
and how the world heard a scream the day her mom died
I remember the times we would lock eyes
And see who was the first to blink, she'd always win
And when that smile gave birth to a dimple, I always thought
"Another crater with a story to tell"
We'd conversate about music, books and art/ Debate
about the exact time in our lives when God walked away
Sometimes my talk was squashin grapes, she'd often say
I should bottle the whine, there's a lotta papes to make
I'd trace her face with every word flowin out the papermate
Outlinin the grave of days with every phrase I say
She used to pluck my heartstrings to make music
Little did she know, it wasn't me who needed tunin
We was in the diner when she got the call
That her father killed himself over the grief of her mom
Commited suicide, euthanized himself
lifted from the pattern of sighs and cries thru his life
She dropped her spoon right into a bowl of soup and I
noticed her tryin hard to elude and mute the cries
I looked at that bowl underneathe her droopin eyes and thought
"Another crater with a story to tell"
She removed herself, I remember her tellin me
she told herself that she'd never again attend a funeral
She had to rebuild herself after her mother
was hit by a gun a couple of summers ago
She wanted to break up
temporarilly, scared those she cared for went to the cemetary
Last time I saw her was at the wake
I gave her one glance and I walked away
She wrote me a poem about how we were meant to be
She was part of my threesome in sex with destiny
How we were both craters on the face of the moon
adjacent, abused but pavin our way to the view
I think back to how we met, but what wasn't said
Was the fact that I was already dead
Then there I was, daydreamin on Queens Boulevard
Fulla cars and people patching smiles over bullet scars
I dunno where I'm goin or headed to
Leavin dents in cars as my existence's residue
A ford hit the pothole and skidded, hittin me
I flipped and hit the street to the melody of screams
Reflectin on that vision of the future I had
With the brunette who left me to pick at her scabs
Things fade to black, and while a crowds gatherin
a blue eyed brunette is gaspin, askin what happened
