A Random Image

Jett Superior laid this on you on || November 20, 2001 || 2:41 pm

There will be no consolation prize
This time the bone is broken clean
No baptism, no reprise and no sweet taste of victory
All the stars have fallen from the sky
And everything else in between
Satellites have closed their eyes, the moon has gone to sleep

Unloved unloved unloved

Here I am inside a hotel
Choking on a million words I said
Cigarettes have burned a hole and dreams are drunk and penniless
Here I am inside my father’s arms
All jagged bone and whisky dry
Whisper to me sweetly now and tell me I will never die

Unloved unloved unloved

Here I am an empty hallway
Broken window, rainy night
I am nineteen sixty-two and I am ready for a fight
People crying hallelujah
While the bullet leaves the gun
People falling, falling, falling and I don’t know where they’re falling from

Are they
Unloved unloved unloved

Hoping that the kindness will lead us past the blindness
Not another living soul will ever have to feel

Unloved unloved
Unloved unloved
Unloved unloved unloved

// Jann Arden, “Unloved”

(pee ess….Jann has a journal, and it’s pretty good…)

Nobody worked it out »

Don´t be shy. Lay it on me.

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