Monday, March 29, 2010


 Come and be sick with me.
I need that kind of friend.
Share in my sickness and sadness.
Share in my health and happiness.
You feel like something I need more than something I want.
I don't want to live but I can't wait to be born.
I want to tell you how much you give to me.
I want to hear your smile when you speak.
But the time isn't there and you probably wouldn't believe.
I'm tired of making this world tired of me.
So come and stand with me.
Because I've got nowhere to go and no blood left to bleed.
The two ways I could go. Both look dark and cold and the old man said 
there might be snow.
The ice in my veins is starting to show.
If I can't have both roads I'll just walk in the grass.
If I can't be free I'll just have another glass.
So come and be sick with me?
We will tell each other everything, except those things.
We will share all the beliefs and dreams we know are OK.
We will say everything that's accepted to say.
I want something to break but not my arm.
I want something to shake up. I want to fight scream and then laugh 
and make up.
I want to cough up my feelings and bleed out my love.
I want to show you all that I need.
I want to be afraid again, to feel like I've sinned.
I just want to hold you close and dance to slow tormented tunes.
Maybe Conor, Dylan, or some blues?
The Cure for the good and awful news.
So come and be sick with me until we feel.
Let's eat cereal and watch cartoons?
Let's sit close and waste afternoons?
I need that kind of friend.
I need you here again.
Come and be sick with me until the end.