i'll always keep you in my heart.
anderson is cold tonight
the leaves are scattered on the ground
i miss the seasons and the comfort of your smile.
sometimes this all feels like a dream
i'm waiting for someone just to wake me up from this life
as i look out at these fairgrounds
i remember how our family split apart
i don't think i ever told you
but i know you always did your best
and the hard times, they only made us stronger.
as i sit here all alone
i wonder how i'm supposed to carry on
when you're gone...
i'll never be the same without you
i love you more than you will ever know.
so maybe now you'll finally know
sometimes we're helpless and alone
but you can't let it keep you weighted down.
you must go on.
do you ever feel like crying?
do you ever feel like giving up?
i raise my hands up towards the sky
i say this prayer for you tonight
because nothing is impossible.
~the atari*s from their new cd so long, astoria~
i don't know really, if it's because all along i've associated the atari*s with strong emotions, but their new cd (the first after being signed to columbia and therefore quite processed and not nearly as raw as previous albums) invades my chest and squeezes my heart like a hug that's on the verge of too hard. i love it, but it's almost painful to listen to. humph.
(don't worry beth, i wrote this to you before i put it here. it really is to you.)
i'm going to bed.
i'm listening to it now and trying so hard not to turn it off and throw it against the wall. why? it hurts so much just to hear kris' voice and his lyrics. which, i know, is quite ridiculous considering the atari*s aren't really THAT great of a band, i don't know why i connect with them as much as i do. (i've written off the kev excuse. i talked to him today. he just annoys me now.) i've never had this kind of trauma listening to music before. i've never felt like this about it-- so bizarre. i think i have to turn it off. i wonder if i'll go to the concert next month and just cry thru the set like i do thru the cd. i am such a freak.