Good morning, kids! So I just had band practice yesterday for the first time in almost a year. It was invigorating. It made me think of that entire album we wrote that our label who has most ungraciously shelved us never let us release. At the time of writing the songs we were tentatively titling them after video game villains. I’m in a sharing mood, and also have been clearing out the cobwebs cluttering my head space.
One dark corner is occupied by a girl (IMAGINE THAT?!) who unceremoniously treated me less than spectacular. I was always good enough to hang out with, good enough to sleep with, but never good enough to date. Story of my fucking life, but I digress. I know there are others out there that have been or are in this same predicament so I wanted to share my lyrics so that we may be able to lament on this subject together.
It's a hard pill to swallow. I can't say that the girl truly didn't give a shit about me, but if you were to look at our interactions and what led me to this dark place you would understand. I became a fallback. I became someone that could lift them up when they were down. I became their release from the mundane. But I never could be more. You know how great that feels? You know how awesome it is to know that you're good enough to be someone's good time but not good enough to be their everyday? It's disheartening, it's defeating. It makes me feel more worthless than I already do normally.
The idea of Cloud, Sephiroth and the like being clones came to mind. When more or less used as an escape by someone else it made me feel like I wasn't my own person. As if I'm living for someone else's purpose. I do not believe I am an extremely talented lyricist so please bare with the song. One thing although I have always had faith in was my ability to survey my own emotions and inscribing them into writing. So in the words of Bill, “kiddo, this is me at my most masochistic,” and without much further ado, here are the lyrics to Sephiroth. Enjoy!
Is it a blessing, is it a curse? Not for nothing it could be worse than this. I've grown weary of playing a role. I'm a clone, a joke, another author in my bones.
Fate is hardly lending a hand - I'm not your friend, I'm merely a concept. You fell in love with the notion of me, feelings are based on foundations of fallacies.
Fate is hardly lending a hand - You don't know me, you know my story. Dipping quills into inkwells of lies, how many times have I already died?
How can I be both the darkness in the clouds and the light shining brightly breaking through the silver lining? Lips sealed I cut myself from ear to ear just so you could see me smile I will forfeit my desires I am all that you want me to be. An empty vessel filled with your nonsense
To be reborn in your image; I am what you want me to be, an empty vessel for you to fill with your nonsense.
This diamond's lost it's luster, the chase has lost its thrill. I've seen this one before, yet I expect a different ending still.
How many times have I died, to be born in your image? My eyes have seen the glory, your lies tell a different story.
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