Thursday, May 18, 2006

Isolation

In fear everyday, every evening
He calls her aloud from above,
Carefully watched for a reason,
Painstaking devotion and love,
Surrendered to self preservation,
From others who care for themselves.
A blindness that touches perfection,
But hurts just like anything else.

Isolation, isolation, isolation.

Mother I tried please believe me,
I'm doing the best that I can.
I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through,
I'm ashamed of the person I am.

Isolation, isolation, isolation.

But if you could just see the beauty,
These things I could never describe,
These pleasures a wayward distraction,
This is my one lucky prize.

Isolation, isolation, isolation, isolation, isolation.


Ian Curtis 15-July-1956 - 18-May-1980

2 comments:

AS said...

Um bocado depressivo, não? Nem parece teu!


Hum...
Eram saudades minhas? LOL

Barba Ruiva said...

Felizmente para ti, não me conheces assim tão bem...