Sunday, February 4, 2007

One near perfect thing

And far away somebody read the letter
He condescends to read the words I wrote about him
And if he smiles, it’s no more than a genius deserves
For all his curious nerve and his passion

I’m going deaf, you’re growing melancholy
Things fall apart, I don’t know why we bother at all
But life is good and “It’s always worth living at least for
a while”

If I could do just one near perfect thing I’d be happy
They’d write it on my grave, or when they scattered
my ashes
On second thoughts I’d rather hang around
and be there with my best friend
If she wants me

If you think to yourself “What should I do now?”
Then take up the baton, girl, you better run with it
There is no point in standing in the past cause
it’s over and done

(Belle & Sebastian, If she wants me)

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