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I've been reading a lot of C&H again.. been a while though.. and i'd forgotten just how good waterson was.. this is one of the more thought provoking ones..

On the First day of Christmas...

Private little joke.. for those who dont get it, go listen to 'The 12 Days of Christmas'..

Smashed..

Darling, you left my heart
In pieces on the floor
So tell me why shouldn't I
Break some things of yours?

I'll smash your lamp, the antique chair,
That stupid thing you always wear;
I'll smash a vase, the radio,
Those little teacups from Limoge;

Your wacky paintings on the walls;
Darling - POW - I'll smash 'em all;
Lover, it's just a game;
Cupid can take the blame;
I'll take the place apart,
But don't worry - I won't smash your heart!

Closure..

She closed the door.
What? Again? What did you do this time?
I don't know.
You can't help yourself can you? Always fucking things up?
She promised she won't leave if I didn't give her a reason to go.
And I'm sure, like always, you gave her plenty.
I dont know. I tried not to.
Stupid fucking prick. You deserve this.
I do?
Ofcourse. Fuckpig.
I do. Now what?
Is that even a question?
You mean..
Exactly.
I suppose. Goodbye then.

I wonder..

I surprise myself sometimes.. do things i never though i was capable of.. in a good way ofcourse..
I feel calmer.. and im done setting standards.. gonna go with my gut now.. feels right that way..
Things have never been so swell, I have never felt so well.. In a good way ofcourse..

Something Stupid..

"I love you" he replied, almost mecahnically.
It was a game they played. Like a volley. He did not know if he meant it, not even what it meant.
Sure he cared about her. And desired her. And loved to be with her. And got a nasty little twinge when she paid more attention to others. But did he love her? In the all consuming way that one reads so often about? He did not know. And I guess he did not care.
He had her. Mind and body. She was meant to be his own. Always there beside him. An extention of his self. He posessed her, or so he thought until he pushed her too far.
It was hell. How could she leave? That wasn't how things were supposed to be. He was hurt, lonely, afraid, indignant.. ashamed at his deed and his weakness. Why did it hurt so much? Was it because he loved her? He did not know. But this time around, he did care.
One fateful night of revelry. He had her again, mind and body. But it wasn't enough. Something did not feel the way it used to. Is that what he missed, that undefinable something that he could feel but never express? Was that love?
"Must be" he said to himself.
"I love you" he replied, almost mechanically.
This time around though, he knew he meant it. He always had.

Something Stupid - Frank Sinatra
I know I stand in line, until you think you have the time
To spend an evening with me
And if we go someplace to dance, I know that theres a chance
You wont be leaving with me

And afterwards we drop into a quiet little place
And have a drink or two
And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid
Like: I love you

I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies
You heard the night before
And though its just a line to you, for me its true
It never seemed so right before

I practice every day to find some clever lines to say
To make the meaning come through
But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late
And Im alone with you

The time is right your perfume fills my head, the stars get red
And oh the nights so blue
And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid
Like: I love you