You don't have to do a damn thing--
All of a sudden, you're my king.
When you're around I fall apart,
Hopelessly ready for a start...
Something in you gets me by,
There is no love and yet I try
To see myself with different eyes,
'cause you're the hunter of my lies.
Your arms don't touch, your eyes don't speak,
Yet I am touched and feel so meek
That I can't help but think of you
As highly as my feelings grew.
It's silly how I let myself
Be played and tossed, you cruel elf.
Just let me be your ex tonight,
Tell me I'm wrong and you are right.
Game over before it's begun,
You've got me good with your stun gun.
What do you have that I do not,
What am I doing in your plot?
I find myself being with you
And I grow up, but younger too.
Back from the dead, I come alive
With every second you survive.
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2 comments:
You aren't dead at all, you live for others and for yourself but sometimes you have to die to know what is the meaning of a life.
Your game isn't lost as long as you DO think that you are playing. May it be. A splendiferous begining or a sparkless end.
Robert G.
i wish death was something to be tried and exercised (or practiced). but in effect it is death itself that tries us, and sometimes--when we resist to be tried--it wins us over.
the real game is played out before the supposed "game" actually starts. the game itself is meaningless, or just for show; all that matters is who gets into the game and how does one become a player. once you're in, you can call yourself a winner, whether you win or you lose.
in order to become a player, one needs to know the rules of the game, and those are not revealed to just anyone, because although the rules are laid out for all to see, not everyone can get them.
it is what makes the rule that truly matters. only at that level does the real game get to be played. many are called, but few are chosen. and sometimes matching the partners of a game borders insanity. i should know better. :)
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