Words and Coffee

Just a little something to ease you–or me–through a snowy Sunday.

Though I may be miles away from her
With years that pass without a word
I’ve never seen a moon so high
Her name hangs down from there tonight

So put your little hand away
I’ve seen such needy days before
On nights like this my hope returns
Though I may be miles away from here

A locket just for good luck
A pocket knife for long nights
And a sleepy little dreamer
With still miles to go

27 take me home
And pour that last year down my throat
The days will fade and the nights will burn
Though I may be miles away from her

I see her in the doorway
Staring a hole through it all
The first of many fits
And the last one was, man the last one was

So check your lock and close your eyes
When you wake up I’ll be all right
Never tell them where it hurts
And keep your bullet safe inside

The wind has wept and the sky is slurred
But we slept through the sunrise too
I’m dreaming still of who you were
Though I may be miles away from her

After I stopped wiping the tears from my eyes, I got it together to post this here.

I snurched this from io9′s 30 Awesome Disaster Movie Money Shots. Really, you should watch them all.

Now, I’m going to watch this one again.

Carry on.

Just wanted to leave you all with this as I and my family head to the beach. I’ll be rolling down I-77 sipping my coffee, looking forward to laying in the sand.

These songs make me think of coffee boiled hot in a tin pot.  You can chew the grounds to get the last little bit of goodness when the drink has been drunk.

Just love this. A Georg Büchner story as told by Mr. Tom Waits. Coffee at 11:30 PM will do this to you.

There’s your story.