Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Stockholm Syndrome

What's the matter, why don't you answer
What's the matter with me
Cause it's so hard to be
Free and easy, to disappear completely
Hardly as alone as glad

You're heart is broken, and the doors are open
As you're hoping to be
There's brighter places to see
Hands need warming, early in the morning
Hardly as alone a surprise

No, don't warn me
I know it's wrong, but I swear it won't take long
And I know, you know,
It makes me sigh; I do believe in love

No, don't warn me
I know it's wrong, but I swear it won't take long
And I know, you know,
It makes me sigh; I do believe, I do believe...

Another season, of the same old feelings
Another reason could be
I'm tired of aching, summer's what you make it
But I'll believe what I want to believe


You know, some things are just so perfect that you wouldn't change a note, a moment. The world disappears and you're swallowed up in the beauty of the artform I loved before I knew what art was and will love when I'm too old to care what art is. Viva pop.

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