Driving With the Brakes On (live) :: Del Amitri
I might drive away
I stumble halfheartedly through the day-to-day,
picking up strays,
thoughts, grey hair, ex-lovers, memories.
Sometimes it all appears to me like a snapshot,
of someone else’s place to be,
and, I am just a shadow reflected on the wall,
in the flickering brush of your lashes,
on your rosy blushed cheeks.
I wonder how we ended up in this carousal ride,
flailing and flying,
arms in the air, eyes closed, mesmerized.
Did I once roll and ice blue pair of dice?
Were you blindfolded and spun around?
Your finger landing here, on me, today?
Saying here it is,
where I choose to go,
choose to be, choose to love,
choose to breathe.
Or was it because my other hand was full of decay,
and I just did not know how to say no.
I lie awake as the numbers switch and fade, wondering why.
Time is just a lyrical dream to me now.
When you see the day from the night,
writing while the world is fast asleep,
there are answers found that nobody cares to acknowledge.
The light makes them too blind to see.
I am not sure if I chose well,
or if I just let it all choose me.
I am learning that part of my past lends itself,
to just letting things happen,
with or without consent.
You hand me the dice and say take your turn,
but, I pass.
I am worn.
Consequence might look better on a different girl.
Driving Sideways :: Aimee Mann