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Composition

This entry is made up of 268 words. It was last modified in September 2006.

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"He who forgets, will be destined to remember..."

The clues to you and I are sprawling out like roads
and if we find a place for them, they won’t lead home.
I only meant ot say it once, but it’s too late —
I’m into you and out again

the rotted love manipulates me
the rotted love that twists the fates seem
a bit confused by my reflection
cuz if we die, there’s still direction…

and I, I, you, we’re not thinking my stromata
I, you, we’re not thinking my stromata

If I can think on purpose then you’ll be right here;
a paranoia got the best of what I hold dear.
The cold linoleum is talking up my shoes,
deciphering the truth of us, and now I know what I’m about to lose
now I know what I’m about to choose
now we go for some reaction — a little game of whose distracted more..

and I, I, you, we’re not thinking my stromata
I, you, were not thinking my stromata
I, you, were not thinking my stromata.

And see the disappointments walking in their line
but every step they take is perfectly in time
I’m singing you in every breath I’m left to heave
I feel your arms surrounding me and
when I’m in a dirty river
and my receiver meets a giver
I set a trap to come and catch you
a someone stop me — now I can do this
and

I, I, you, we’re not thinking my stromata
I, you, we’re not thinking my stromata
I, you, we’re not thinking my stromata
I, you, we’re not thinking my stromata
(I, I) we’re not thinking my stromata…
...

These are lyrics by Charlotte Martin, from 'Stromata'. This was posted at 03:16 PM on 29 September 2006 .
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