You Will Never Know These Words (lyrics)

24 01 2010

After writing the poem, I decided to translate at least some of the words and lines into a song with a melody that I had had for a while now and I came up with this.  *video at the bottom*

You Will Never Know These Words

I’m finding out,
It’s blinding now,
The truth coming from your eyes.
And now these rusted words,
Have come too late.
They wilt away,
Lost in the sand.

But nothing holds true,
And time slips away.
I can’t buy my childhood back,
‘Cause you sold it all,
For ten a piece,
And now I’m hollowed out of memories.

CHORUS:
I know you by an empty seat
And though you’re not here I’m on my knees.

I’m a troubadour,
Scouring,
Far and wide
For someone to hear my song.
But all I come across
Is only loss.
It’s all I’ve got,
It seems that’s where I belong.

These trenches run deep,
Vast in their size,
Scraping ‘cross the land.
How can you abandon
The canyon
And all you left in me?

CHORUS:
I know you by an empty seat,
And still, you don’t hear you just believe,
If all of my flaws are smoothed out,
I’ll be the perfect man.

Oh you’ll never see,
What I can be.
So take another step away
Into the opposite
Of you and me.
Let’s leave this all behind.

We’re on two different trains,
The rest of our lives.
But just tell me this:
How did you abandon
the canyon
You cut into my life?

CHORUS:
I know you by an empty seat,
Your hands in your ears so tightly.
The thing that really hurts the most is
You will never know these words.

You will never know these words
You will never know these words
You will never know these words
You will never know these words

I’m finding out,
It’s blinding now.
But your rusted words
Have come too late…





You Will Never Know These Words (original poem)

23 01 2010

A poem I wrote during Style class at Vancouver Film School.  Take a guess who it’s about.

You Will Never Know These Words

You will never know these words.

I know you by an empty seat.

I seem to have misplaced any memory of us,
Or perhaps they were carelessly bleached out.
When your shadow creeps over me,
I feel a familiar fear settling in.
I learn not to question because then I doubt,
And people don’t like to be doubted.
If something is not right, there is always room under the ever-growing, black rug.
You’ve always expected the perfect life,
And when that doesn’t come about, you say it goes against tradition,
That people are stamped with “sick”
If they aren’t measured right down to the dot.
You’ve laid out the tracks for me,
Expecting me to chug along without the slightest of a whistle.
I would rather derail and flush into a fury of fire.

I am told that wounds heal,
But these raw scars run deeper than the deepest of trenches.
Your rusted words have come too late
And it only adds a tangled knot to your string.
Your face still sags when you see me walking your way,
And though you try to hide it, your eyes whisper,
“You disappoint me.”

I may share your blood but you still find a way to hate me.

Hypocritical.
Bigoted.
Ignorant.
Apathetic.
Oppressive.

You will never know these words.