Here I am, where I've been
I've walked a hundred miles in tobacco skin
My clothes are worn & gritty
And I know ugliness, now show me something pretty
I was a dumb punk kid with nothing to lose
And too much weight for walking shoes
I could have died from being boring
As for loneliness, she greets me every morning
I first discovered
Patrick Park a little less than a year ago when his CD showed up in our office, and then later in my car stereo, where it stayed for weeks on end.
The entire album is beautiful and sad. In early December of last year, I needed beautiful and sad. I needed something that made me forget feeling bitter and pissed off. The album came at a good time for me - especially this song,
Something Pretty. (Listen to the song
here.)
At the most I'm a glare
I'm the hopeless son who's hardly there
I'm the open sign that's always busted
I'm the friend you need, but can't be trusted
That's the part that always gets me:
I'm the friend you need but can't be trusted.
I've had a few of those.
I've probably been that friend to some, although that thought makes me feel a little sick inside.
There's something about the end of a friendship that's harder to process than the end of an intimate relationship, at least in some small, subtle ways. The term "bad breakup" doesn't include when two friends break up, just lovers. With close friends, you don't guard yourself against getting hurt. You don't steel yourself with the thought, way way back in the furthest corner of your mind, that this friendship might one day run its course.
It's hard to explain to people, too. If you say you broke with your boyfriend, people nod sympathetically. They might ask about how you're doing and offer condolences or advice. Whatever the situation, it's never that hard to figure out what differences couldn't be overcome. With the breakup of a friendship, it's not as easy. There's no social ettiquette to fall back on. There's no easy way to say, "I just had to move on," without sounding heartless. There is silence.
Here I am, where I've been
I've walked a hundred miles in tobacco skin
My clothes are worn & gritty
And I know ugliness
Now show me something pretty
To me, this stanza captures the feeling that follows betrayal. It's like sitting alone, hungover, at a table in a 24-Hour diner in the middle of the Sunday brunch rush. Surrounded by families with screaming children, shoes sticking to the dirty floor. Wishing that you could take back your choice to be sitting there, stirring your coffee, alone.
What's worse are those times that you wish you could take it all back - you wish you could reset your boundaries; you wish you had said something different; you even wish you could take back the mistakes the other person made. You wish you could still drive to their house at ten on a Saturday morning, wake them up, and lay on their couch giggling about the night before. You miss them, the good parts. The parts you needed.
At the most I'm a glare
I'm the hopeless son who's hardly there
I'm the open sign that's always busted
I'm the friend you need, but can't be trusted
Sometimes you have to make yourself choose to move on.
All lyrics are the property and copyright of their respective owners.
All lyrics are provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
Lucy loves you |
