I'm singing a song, my hands sweaty and playing like shit on the guitar, my words are weak and muffled, like the voice inside my head. I don't know how to escape it, give it passion and meaning and let it speak for itself. Always there talking to me, never letting up, always discriminating, never forgiving. I fucked up, yes, it tells me. Never anything right. Always something bad. Why can't I just sing it all out and scream my ragged voice and give this ghost an outlet for it's distaste. My head is swimming awash in chemical antidepressant soup and I'm drowning. Someone is calling me. I've fallen inside a well months ago and it's dark and it's cold. My ragged fingernails have clawed at damp earth and jagged stone, I've bled each day in the dark and woken to a bright eye shining down at me; God is telling me that I'll never escape from this oubliette. I don't need torture, my memories are torture enough, forced each day to rethink them, relive them, and act them out. I'm a single player in this play and the only crowd is the taunting voice in my head. I can't get out. I can't escape. I can only forget where I am, and pretend that I'm elsewhere. If I close my eyes hard enough, and the tears finally run dry, my minds eye places me elsewhere and I can act for a few short hours for a different kind of crowd. I try to make them smile and laugh, and if they do I'm pleased, for each night I'm shut away again and God closes his eye on me. No one knows I'm here, and no one knows I exist. I'm alone with only a memory for comfort, a memory that hates me.

This crappy cover that I wish I could play better is dedicated to the following:
This is for Leanna for giving me that hug when I was so shy. This is for John for always knowing what I was thinking without asking. This is for Julie for not caring that I was a dork and treating me like a person. This is for the people that were real to me. I miss you.

"I Know" - Trespassers William

I know I'll never see you
I know I'll never run into your body walking through the crooked streets
I know I'll never hear you
I know I'll never hear you like a sound that wafts inside from outside there
I know that if I waited I know that if I wait a thousand days will lie wasted with thoughts of you
my love I've pictured this:
your violet eyelids opened to say "here's where you've been"
your lips open to say "my darling it's been so very long and I'm in pain"
I know I'll never feel you
I know I'll never get so close to you that I can't smell anything else
I know that it is raining
and I know that the rain will soak you through
and leave you like the tattered sky
I know I go in circles
I know that window panes bring only rain and not your face
my love I've pictured this:
your violet eyelids opened to say "here's where you've been"
sometimes I picture all your fingers
sometimes they're crawling down my spine
sometimes they're buttoning your jacket
sometimes you're far but you're still mine
sometimes I picture all your fingers
sometimes they're crawling down my spine
sometimes they're buttoning your jacket
sometimes you're far but you're still mine
I know I go in circles
I know that window panes bring only rain and not your face