thirty-seven: “he was worse than the needle he gave you” by the delta mirror.

view from my flat on rue des gravilliers. le marais. paris. january 2010.

The first time I heard this song I was in Paris for the first time. It was my second escape from NYC and a certain fella. I’m currently on my fifth escape plan from the same fella. Either way, it was he who introduced me to this song that I had on repeat on my iPod the entire month I was Paris that January. It was perfect… it’s still quite perfect.

I’ve got an empty house,
that don’t bother me,
got an empty bottle,
so the day won’t follow me,
I write empty songs,
and the words don’t bother me,
but goddamn,
I’ve got too much time on my hands,
I’ve got too much time on my hands,
come take all this time off my hands.

I know the
inside of your eyes,
we know preparing your goodbye
each one makes me colder,
more resistant to my life,
And I saw it coming,
there was no disguise,
you were finished listening to lies
how could I have been so surprised?
how could I have been so surprised?

Sun rose,
time for us to part,
walked home,
showing me your scar,
see the knife may as well never touched your heart,
either surely would have,
needed you no more
how could  this have needed no more
how could this have needed you apart…

All I know,
I wished I had followed you home,
I wished I had followed you home,

I’ve got an empty house,
that don’t bother me,
got an empty bottle,
so the day won’t follow me,
I write empty songs,
and the words don’t bother me,
but goddamn,
I’ve got too much time on my hands,
I’ve got too much time on my hands…

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