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john davies
notes from a small vicar
from a parish
in Liverpool, UK

    Friday, January 02, 2004
    Situations get fucked up ... and turned around sooner or later
     
    Hell, I've only just found this out: that last October Elliott Smith died. Stab wound to the chest. Probable suicide. One more reason for tears, the loss of this tender, melancholic musician. One more reason to say good riddance 2003. What a terrible year for losses, losses which make the world an emptier, less soulful place.
      I'm going out sleepwalking
      Where mute memories start talking
      The boss that couldn't help but hurt you
      And the pretty thing he made desert you

      I'm going out now like a baby
      A naive unsatisfiable baby
      Grabbing onto whatever's around
      For the soaring high or the crushing down
      With hidden cracks that don't show
      But that constantly just grow

      I'm looking for the man that attacked me
      While everybody was laughing at me
      You beat it in me that part of you
      But I'm gonna split us back in two
      Tired of living in a cloud
      If you're gonna say shit now you'll do it out loud

      It's 2:45 in the morning
      And I'm putting myself on warning
      For waking up in an unknown place
      With a recollection you've half erased
      Looking for somebody's arms to
      Wave away past harms

      I'm walking out on center circle
      The both of you can just fade to black
      I'm walking out on center circle
      Been pushed away and I'll never go back
    - Elliott Smith, '2.45am', from either/or. The blog title is a line from the same album's closing song, 'say yes'. I'm sure he's right. "'Depressing' isn't a word I would use to describe my music. But there is some sadness in it - there has to be, so that the happiness in it will matter."