Sage Francis - The Best of Times | Текст песни

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• Sage Francis
• The Best of Times

Its been a long and lonely trip but I'm glad I took it, Cause it was well worth it, got to read a couple of books and do some research before I reached my verdict, Never thought that I was perfect, always thought that I had a purpose, I used to wonder if I'd live to see my first kiss.

The most difficult thing that I did was to recite my own words at a service, realizing that the person I was addressing probably wasn't looking down from Heaven, or cooking up something in Hells kitchen, or trying to listen in or eves drop from some other dimension, which is self serving just like this is.

Conveniently religious, on Easter Sunday and on Christmas, the television went from being our baby-sitter to a mistress, technology made it easy for us to stay in touch while keeping our distance. Til we just stayed distant and never touched, now all we do is text to much, I don't remember much from my youth, maybe my memory is repressed, or I just spent too much time wondering if I'd live to have sex. Fell in love for the first time in fourth grade, but I didn't have the courage to talk to her, in eight grade I wrote the note and slipped it in somebody else's locker, considered killing myself cause of that, it was a big deal, it was a blown cover, it was over for me, my goose was cooked, stick a fork in me, the jig is up.

Blew my chances the rest is history, our future was torn asunder, became abundantly clear I was only brought here to suffer. At least I didn't include my name, thankfully I wrote the whole note in code, and it had ten layers of scotch tape safely sealed making it impossible to open, plus it was set to self-destruct, whoever read it probably died laughing, I wonder if they lived long enough to realize what happened.

A year later, I came to understand that wasn't love that I was feeling for her, I had someone else to obsess over, I was older and I was very mature, I forged my times signature, by practicing my parents autograph cause I was failing math, disconnected the phone when I thought the teacher would call my home. Checked the mail-box twice a day at the end of the long dirt road, steamed open a couple of envelopes like I was in private detective mode, if you snoop around long enough for something in particular you're guaranteed to find it, for better or worse that's how I learned it's best to just keep some things private.

It was the best of times, it was the end of times.... (repeat)

I was always on deck, I was next in line, an only child with a pen and a pad writing a list of things I could never have, walls in my house were paper thin and every squabble seemed to get deafening, if my memory serves me correctly I made it a point to void and forget some things, probably to keep from being embarrassed, never meant to upset or give grief to my parents, kept my secrets, hid my talents, in my head, never under the mattress.

Therapy couldn't break me, never learnt a word that would ensure safety, so I spoke softly, and I tip-toed off and the door to my room was like a big old coffin in the way that it creaked when I closed it shut, anxiety's peaked when I opened up, as everything that I was thinking would be exposed, I still sleep fully clothed.

It was the best of times...

It was beautiful, it was brutal, it was cruel, it was business as usual, Heaven, it was Hell, I used to wonder if I'd live to see twelve. When I did I figured out I was immortal, loved to dance but couldn't make it to the formal, couldn't bare watching my imaginary girlfriend bust a move with any other dudes, Tone Loc was talking about a wild thing, I was still caught up in some child things, scared of a God who couldn't spare the rod, it was clearly a brim-stone and fire thing, pyromaniac, kleptomaniac, couldn't explain my desire to steal that fire, now I add it to my rider, like "please don't please don't throw me in that patch of brier!"

It was the best of times, it was the end of t

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