So LongI'm here tonightSo Long by soulsongs
in this bar
listening to the conversations
of those around me.
I pretend that I care--
but we all know I really don't.
I see the world in a hue of pale blue
with your face reflected
at the bottom of every empty glass
even though I've washed my hands
of all of it, I wish I could come back for more
as smoke from cigarettes swirls 'round me
and for once I don't seem to mind it.
Tonight I'll toast in your honor
and raise my glass up to the sky,
because I prefer to wait 'til
the crowds have gone home
for me to say my final goodbye
to a friend, a person so much
a part of me that he could match
the sparkles in my eyes
with the smallest glimpse of his smile.
We had just said our hello,
but now we're forced to say so long
to you and your life
along with the secrets and lies
that harnessed themselves to you
like wings made of paper
forcing us to fly off buildings
hoping we'll land on our feet
but never really landing at all.
You held me when I was scared
of the skeletons rattlin
Letter to Unknown Recipient IILetter to Unknown Recipient II by Body-Without-Organs
You're here again aren't you? You've been here all day. Who are you? Are you God? Are you the God I carry? The God who creates me as I create you? I don't understand. Explain it to me.
Are you creating me? Now? Or am I creating you? Do I exist to create you? To see you? Know you? Be you? Or have you here with me so I can create you? So I have a reason to keep breathing? Are you in my breath? Am I putting you into the world I watch? Maybe if I give them you they'll see me.
Maybe. Maybe not.
It's all going to happen tomorrow isn't it? Why do you promise me tomorrow? I had it yesterday.
I want today but I can't have it. All I can have is a tomorrow you keep promising me. You gave me tomorrow yesterday. It's over. The f
Letter to an Unknown RecipientLetter to an Unknown Recipient by Body-Without-Organs
-- I Am Lost --
Yet, I know where I am. I believe I am here: I must be mustn't I? If I am not here I am not writing this.
Yet I am not writing this, I have already written it. Haven't I? If I haven't written it you are not reading it.
Thus I am not here, you are imagining that you remember my being here by viewing the consequences of when I was here.
Am I here then?
I have been told we have God with us because we can see the trail he has left in our existence. Is God in the ink I have just spread on this page?
Perhaps. I doubt it though.
If God is seen in his effects am I constituted by your viewing this page and believing I existed?
Does this mean I am the present state of a past you will see in the future? If it does and I am are you guiding my dream? Am I a dream of yours? Are you going to wake soon and write what you have made me write? Or are you going to come through the