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METRIC LYRICS

"Ending Start"

All this that is more than a wish is a memory
All this that is ceases to be
All is revealed
The obvious door opens nothing
Nothing, nothing, nothing left
Nothing left to chance

When you try to see, we'll watch you
When you try to leave, we'll keep you
When you should be dreaming, we'll wake you
But don't scream, we'll make you swallow your words

Gave them our explosions, our reactions, all that was ours
For graphs of passion and charts of stars
Gave them our reactions, our explosions all that we are
For graphs of passion and charts of stars

How ending starts
Ending starts with answers.




afi - days of the phoenix[/size]

I remember when I was told of story of crushed velvet,
candle wax, and dried up flowers
The figure on the bed all dressed up in roses, calling
Beckoning to sleep,
Offering a dream

words were as mystical as purring animals
The circle of rage
The ghosts on the stage appeared
The time was so tangible, I'll never let it go
Ghost stories handed down, reached secret tunnels below
No one could see me

I fell into yesterday
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
I fell into fantasy

The words were as mystical as purring animals
The circle of rage
The ghosts on the stage appeared
The time was so tangible, I'll never let it go
Ghost stories handed down, reached secret tunnels below
No one could see me

I fell into yesterday.
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay.
I fell into fantasy

The girl on the wall always waited for me,
And she was always smiling
The teenage death boys
The teenage death girls
And everyone was dancing
Nothing could touch us then
No one could change us then
Everyone was dancing
Nothing could hurt us then
No one could see us then
Everyone was dancing
Everyone was dancing

No one could see me

I fell into yesterday
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
I fell into fantasy

Our dreams seemed not far away
Our dreams seemed not far away
Our dreams seemed not far away

I fell into fantasy



There is no Gain in the world: so be it: but neither is there any Loss. There is never any failure to this infinite freshness of life, and the ancient novelty is forever renewed. We realize the world better if we imagine it, not as a Progress to Prim Perfection, but as the sustained upleaping of a Fountain, the pillar of a Glorious Flame. For, after all, we cannot go beyond the ancient image of Heraclitus, the "Ever-living Flame, kindled in due measure and in the like measure extinguished." That translucent and mysterious Flame shines undyingly before our eyes, never for two moments the same, and always miraculously incalculable, an ever-flowing stream of fire. The world is moving, men tell us, to this, to that, to the other. Do not believe them! Men have never known what the world is moving to. Who foresaw--to say nothing of older and vaster events--the Crucifixion? What Greek or Roman in his most fantastic moments prefigured our thirteenth century? What Christian foresaw the Renaissance? Who ever really expected the French Revolution? We cannot be too bold, for we are ever at the incipient point of some new manifestation far more overwhelming than all our dreams. No one can foresee the next aspect of the Fountain of Life. And all the time the Pillar of that Flame is burning at exactly the same height it has always been burning at! The World is everlasting Novelty, everlasting Monotony. It is just which aspect you prefer. You will always be right.[/center][/color]

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The last selection in the ballgame does never get a pass.
"Not appreciated's" just his first name.
He's the scapegoat of the class.
There are no friends to cheer him up and no girls,
no sweet romance.
It's impossible to expand,
when you never get a second chance.

Do you know who's that guy, who's all alone?
And do you care enough too see?
He's in pain and misery.

He's not going to the school-prom, he said he had the flew.
Trumped-up excuses as he told mom.-
-I'm saver here with you.
-she told her son- someday they'll all be sorry for mistreating you.
Don't be afraid my son and trust me, you'll be someone they will look up to.-
Do you know who's that guy who's all alone? Do you care enough to see?
He's in pain and misery......
..do you care to see?

Do you know who's that guy, who's all alone?
Do you care enough to see?
He's in pain and misery




Caught in a world that's plagued by something they call love.
A paradigm of illness
is the beast I have become.
The sights that I have seen could nearly bring me to my knees.
I've seen exactlty what it is I never want to be,
But I keep it deep inside myself.
It's within me.
Keep it deep within yourself and sink with me.
Last night I had the misfortune to see it all first hand.
"Evacuate the premises" was the innate first command.
What drives the need for all of this?
And will I ever understand?
Has someone failed to tell me of this master plan?
But I keep it deep inside myself.
It's within me.
Keep it deep within yourself and sink with me.[/b]



"Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul."[/color][/size]



"So the days pass, and I ask myself whether one is not hypnotized, as a child by a silver globe, by life, and whether this is living."[/color][/b]

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Will you ever really understand what I feel? Will you ever know what the stories woven into the delicate tangles of scars that sadly decorate the skin of my pale arms will ever really entail? When the truth is told, will you ever truly believe it? Will you be able to distinguish the real happiness from the fake? And when it comes down to it, will I ever be able to know all of that for you? I guess you can read my words and relate. You will interlace your experiences with mine in vague attempt to know what it feels like. You will tell me stories of your own pain and tell me you've felt the same. I will claim that no one has ever felt this hurt. Not like I have. I mean, it's hard to comprehend someone, somewhere in the world is experiencing the same things and reacting in the exact same way. Then something will enter my mind, the words I've read from someone else, words that I could have sworn were my own. A paragraph that I am so tempted to put my name next to because it is impossible that someone else could ever write out the things I feel in such a way if they have not been inside me. Then something else will lace my concentration. Music to which another set of words fit. A song that, once again, seems to depict exactly what I feel. Something that I could not have written. Something someone else felt at a completely different time about entirely different people, yet is exactly the same. So maybe, just maybe you will understand...you will know what I feel and what I have felt. You may not be able to put it into words or even express it...but you will feel something that tells you exactly what it is like. And maybe there are others, people I shall never even meet, who understand exactly what it is to hurt. And maybe there will be people who go through so much worse times than I will ever even imagine and they will survive. And because of the slight pain I feel now, I will be able to tie a string of recognition to their pain and nurse them back to a happy existance. What a person feels can never be measured. The surface ripples can be felt through words or music, or even a slight expression that flits across someone's face. Maybe there is someone who will understand, someone who has been through nothing but feels the same. For even a person who has everything may not be happy. Even if you do not know it, you are not alone. There are people who feel perfect, people who feel worse...and maybe, somewhere, people who feel exactly the same.[/color]