Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Garden State

I watched Garden State again recently. Wonderful movie. There's a song in it, by Colin Hay, that just freaking tears me up. You have to hear him sing it to really get it, but the lyrics alone are enough to throw me into a fit of sorrow:

I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say.

I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you.

I'm no longer moved to drink strong whisky
'Cause I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you.

Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
Even after all these years.

But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you.

If I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you.

No comments: