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Same Story, Different Day

Silly faces in photographs
Scary places and epitaphs
One day you cry, the next you laugh
And tomorrow, you hope that you're ok

You see your life ahead of you
A costume ball and tea for two
Perhaps you'll find it's only you
For the others have gone their separate ways

And you're hopin' things will change
But the fact the sorry fact it still remains
And your fortune teller's got nothin' new to say
Except - Same story, different day

You sit inside your lonely room
Oh, your head filled with freedom,
but your heart filled with doom
You wonder what you can accomplish today
Oh, but it doesn't matter anyway

And you're hopin' things will change
But the fact the sorry fact it still remains
and your fortune teller she's got nothin' new to say
Except - same story, different day.



"This is a song I wrote a very long time ago when I was young and stuck in a circle of what seemed to be dead ends. I've since learned to get out of my own way and have realized how fabulous life truly is..."

Be Me

What did I do? What did I say?
What can I do, to take your hurt away?
I didn't mean to upset you, no not at all...
I was just tryin' to be, me.

Well you stated your case,
And I can see your point
But you need to relax -
I really think you need
To smoke a joint

With my eyes wide open,
It's easy to see
That it's easy to be, me

Too many years
And too many tears
Too many words were left unspoken

Too many times
I recited my lines
And now I'm writing my own play

What can I do? What can I say?
I gotta do whatever makes me happy
I didn't mean to upset you
And you don't have to agree
But I want you to see
That I gotta be me.



"This is actually a song I wrote a very long time ago about a friend who was jealous that they would lose my friendship over a new romantic relationship I'd just started."

Gray

Lately when I look outside
all I see is gray:
Gray skies, gray clouds, gray buildings

The people walking on the gray street
have a gray pallor to their skin;
their clothes and bags
the color of the muddied paint water
at the end of a long day of art class
in 2nd grade

There is no sound but the water
Pouring, dripping, pooling in spots
on the gray sidewalk and path

My attitude is a mirrored reflection
of the gray day
The darker it gets, the darker I get
inside

The harder it rains
the harder my heart hardens
and I am less able to be the optimist
I usually am

Day after day I see the gray,
Hear the gray, and feel gray
Oh how it makes me cherish the days
with sun

Its warmth and its light
not only glowing and brightening all
but shining in me, warming me,
bringing me back to who I truly am
And reminding me that all things,
especially the gray,
are temporary.


Spring, 2005

Note to self when I wrote it: "I wrote this off the cuff because I'm sitting here being gloomy about the rainy weather here in the northeast... it's not my best work, but it took my mind off the rain"