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the pirate girl
 
Juste un peu de silence.

black, white
and the shades of grey in between

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grey

This is just a blog for thoughts - songs that are speaking to me, pics from where I've been today, or projects on the drawing board.
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pirate folder
the pirate girl

coeval happenings
reading: Moab is my Washpot - Stephen Fry
listening to: Napalm & Silly Putty - George Carlin
travelling/staying in: SA, NSW & Vic - depending when you catch me


Let's call today: 'Wednesday 9 February 2005'


pirategirl wrote in the notebook:
 
Untitled

The phone rings in the dead of night.
Hi, Ma? Yes its me. No, no I'm alright...
I know it's been awhile since we spoke heart to heart
but I been thinking tonight and it's a little bit hard
to say after so long that I'm not sorry at all.
Yes, that's right, I'm not. Not sorry at all.

No, Ma. Wake up please, you're not listening to me.
I said I'm not, hear me? Not. I just had to be free.
I know I broke your heart when I'd promised I wouldnt,
but I was young, mother, then and I thought that I couldnt.

Okay so I didnt leave in the best of moods.
I admit that. I know, it mustnt have been good.
But you had him, your son, to lean on, to speak.
Ever since he was young, he's held you up, weak.
When I left I wanted to take him too,
If not to save him then at least to hurt you.
And while I was out, getting drunk, getting sold
The torment you gave him put his own life on hold.

When you fell down, he took your hand.
He carried you though he could barely stand.
And what reward then, did you give him sweet mother?
But to punish one child for the sake of another.

I'm not coming home, Ma. Not now. Not ever.
The way that you think will scar me forever.
And while I cry for the baggage you gave me to stack.
I'm cowardly enough to run on, not looking back.

Sure, I'm a hypocrite, I could save him and more.
But I've no nerve left to come back to your door.
Yep I'm a big girl now, how far I've come
to turn, drop my head, tuck tail and run.

Ma? Are you there? Are you even still awake?
I guess it was silly calling so late.
And maybe this would've worked better if I'd chosen to write
Or if I'd dialled your number...

...before I started talking tonite.

strike that.
reverse it.


1:02 am | Post A Comment... >

 
   
 
 

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blogs, projects & other links:
under construction after gremlins attacked this sidebar

mine sweeper
zombie skittles
under my umbrella
jason b standing
hyperbole and a half
geekologie
postsecret
you are not a photographer
geek with curves
boobiethon

untitled experimental dating site outlet blog
captain's log
the scribe
the NEW amount
big unit studios

20 things i learned about browsers & the web
that's not cool - anti online/textual harassment support



music, art & inspiration:
avaste music
lior
ben folds
hawksley workman
missy higgins
BLACKNAIL
wandering minstrels
annelizabeth
xavier rudd
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