Bier de Stone ( wrote,
Bier de Stone

A pan handled like stir fry veggies

Wasn't it Camden where Ana and Larry meet in a bar to finalize their divorce? It was back in 2005 when I started to tag some entries crazy world because I felt like I was having some type of nervous breakdown or midlife crisis. The cause for this was imagining that I might see a certain person at work again and have the opportunity to say the things I didn't say the first time. Everyday that I would be at work, I scanned the floor for people resembling a certain person. I remember two people whom I approached with a similar line as the intro to Come back to Camden, another song in the CD by Morrissey (track 4 of You are the quarry)

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, when I was being chided by classmates for my big headed ways, I swore an oath to myself which resulted in a lifetime of loneliness. In those days, I was struggling to graduate with my class and recall my gf, out in the hall, yelling my name in English class attempting to get me to sneak out. I should behave the same if ever I become a poet reciting verse in coffee shops. I would interrupt a steady flow of recitation with the outburst "Ana!!" like the play Cat on a hot tin roof where Brick yells out for Stella. My poetry can literally put you to sleep.

It's in stanza four that I am reminded of those days when two people meet and date for the very first time. It was a double date where we were taken to the lazarium show. It's how I feel that I should ask to be taken back by my xgf exclaiming to her that I'll be good (for stuff you'll learn more about in track five's interpretation). But it's here that one has to wonder, who expects that sort of thing in a relationship anymore? Me.

Come Back To Camden
There is something I wanted to tell you, It's so funny you'll kill yourself laughing/ But then I, I look around, And I remember that I am alone, Alone. For evermore¶ The tile yard all along the railings, Up a discoloured dark brown staircase/ Here you'll find, despair and I, Calling to you with what's left of my heart, My heart, For evermore¶ Drinking tea with the taste of the Thames, Sullenly on a chair on the pavement/ Here you'll find, my thoughts and I, And here is the very last plea from my heart/ My heart. For evermore, Where taxi drivers never stop talking/ Under slate grey Victorian sky, Here you will find, despair and I/ And here I am every last inch of me is yours, Yours, For evermore¶ Your leg came to rest against mine, Then you lounged with knees up and apart/ And me and my heart, we knew, We just knew, For evermore¶ Where taxi drivers never stop talking, Under slate grey Victorian sky/ Here you'll find, my heart and I, And still we say come back, Come back to Camden/ And I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be good

I'm one to strike up a conversation with taxi drivers as I've attempted to cure my shyness of speaking by communicating by radio to total strangers.

Tags: music: morrissey

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