Florence and The Machine - Never Let Me Go

Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.
And it's peaceful in the deep,
Cathedral where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,
Found the place to rest my head.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.
And the arms of the ocean are carrying me,
And all this devotion was rushing out of me,
And the crashes are heaven, for a sinner like me,
The arms of the ocean deliver me.
Though the pressure's hard to take,
It's the only way I can escape,
It seems a heavy choice to make,
Now I am under.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles down to the sea bed,
Found the place to rest my head.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go. And the arms of the ocean are carrying me,
And all this devotion was rushing out of me,
And the crashes are heaven, for a sinner like me,
The arms of the ocean deliver me.
And it's over,
And I'm going under,
But I'm not giving up!
I'm just giving in.
Oh, slipping underneath.
Oh, so cold, but so sweet.
In the arms of the ocean, so sweet and so cold,
And all this devotion I never knew at all,
And the crashes are Heaven, for a sinner released,
And the arms of the ocean,
Deliver me.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Deliver me.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Deliver me.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.
Never let me go, never let me go.
And it's over,
And I'm goin' under,
But I'm not givin' up!
I'm just givin' in.
Oh, slipping underneath.
Oh, so cold, but so sweet.

Better Days - Goo Goo Dolls

And you ask me what I want this year
And I try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days
Cuz I don't need boxes wrapped in strings
And designer love and empty things
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days

So take these words
And sing out loud
Cuz everyone is forgiven now
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again

And it's someplace simple where we could live
And something only you can give
And that's faith and trust and peace while we're alive
And the one poor child that saved this world
And there's 10 million more who probably could
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them

So take these words
And sing out loud
Cuz everyone is forgiven now
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again

I wish everyone was loved tonight
And somehow stop this endless fight
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days

So take these words
And sing out loud
Cuz everyone is forgiven now
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again

Just looking

I caught him looking

at me.  He looked away
once our eyes met.  That’s what
we do when we’re caught looking
at someone.  I look away, too. 
And we look at something else –
anything else.  It ends
there, right?  We just look away. 
We just pretend we caught
nothing, and were never caught. 
Does he dare look again?   What if
I catch him again?  I quickly
brush my hand over my face. 
Do I have something embarrassing
hanging from my eyes, my nose?  Run
my tongue over my teeth, check
for stray spinach.  I look again,
but no.  He’s looking away
now; walking away, too. 
I will never know his name.

Summer again

If I retraced the steps I took walking away

from you, would it matter?

If I took back the words I traded

with you, would it change anything?

I don’t want to live with regrets, these bitter

chunks of aftertaste in my mouth where

once I held your flavour. 

Now nothing seems sweet, and all

warmth is gone.  Nothing helps,

not even summer fruit, nor summer sun.

I run down tree-lined lanes

and smell blooming flowers but there is nothing.

Nothing now you’re gone.  You’re gone.

Show You Love - Jars of Clay

Speak- say the words that no one else will ever say
Love- love like the world we know is over in a day

I'm gonna show you a love in every language
I'm gonna speak with the words that need no form
I'm gonna give you what you never had before

You're beautiful and I am weakened by the force of your eyes
So shine bright to separate the truth from the lies
I'm gonna show you love

I'm gonna show you a love in every language
I'm gonna speak with the words that need no form
I'm gonna give you what you never had before

So tie me to a tree and let the smoke and ash collect
No, I won't regret to let love do what love will let
We can drown in mixed emotions or walk across an angry sea
This is the cost of being free

My old friend!

How good to see you again.

Your smile from across the table
is the best garnish for this
pumpkin and carrot soup gone
cold over time.  That joke
we laughed over long ago now
seems new again and funny,
so funny.  Have we grown that old
already?  All our shallow small
talk, tales, and tunes; what
have we really learned
from these nothings we swapped
to kill time and fill space?
How are you now?  Tell me
about this newfound love you keep
smiling over.  That café there
seems ideal for mulling over
love and other losses.  I wish
I’d counted the number
of cups of coffee between us all
this time.  They must be countless
as beats of heart and breaths of air.
I remember how there were less lines
on our faces.  Time changed us, or
we changed time.  In any case,
mine is running out.  This is good, though.
I’m so glad to see you again.

The Touch

I seem to have lost my touch,
and it is really making me sad.
I used to write, you see.  I used to
be able to write. But now I can't
even hold a pen
right.  My penmanship is
getting worse everyday.  The words are
not coming.  No, they are, but they are
not the ones I want. Not the right ones.

I used to love the touch.
I would hone it and sharpen it on the roughest
of words, the most grating ideas.  And smooth
it down till it was fine like
silk and warm water on skin. And words
that flow, I bathed in them. But now I can't
even type a phrase
right.  The embossed letters on
the click-clacking keys bother
my fingertips - braille for the wordless
poet.  They disturb, they tickle
the nerves.  And  still the words,
the right words do not come.

I would love to have the touch
back.  Again and again in a back
and forth motion my pen
scrawls across cheap yellowing sheets,
nudge dormant verses come
awake from lethargic forgetfulness.
My old typewriter's keys singing
an old song.  That song that my fingers
used to play on the black and white.
I used to write.  But now I can't
even remember the feeling of touching
words.  They do not come.