breakdown's coming up 'round the bend

Fool's Gold
The Stone Roses
listen
The gold road's sure a long road
winds on through the hills for fifteen days

The pack on my back is achin'
the straps seem to cut me like a knife

The gold road's sure a long road
winds on through the hills for fifteen days

The pack on my back is achin'
the straps seem to cut me like a knife

I'm no clown, I won't back down
I don't need you to tell me what's goin' down
down, down, down, down, da down, down, down
down, down, down, down, da down, down, down

I'm standing alone
I'm watching you all
I'm seeing you sinking
I'm standing alone
you're weighing the gold
I'm watching you sinking
Fool's gold

These boots were made for walking
the Marquis De Sade never made no boots like these

Gold's just around the corner
breakdown's coming up 'round the bend

(how ya doin'?)

Sometimes you have to try to get along dear
I know the truth and I know what you're thinking

Down, down, down, down, da down, down, down

I'm standing alone
I'm watching you all
I'm seeing you sinking
I'm standing alone
you're weighing the gold
I'm watching you sinking
Fool's gold

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Earlier this evening, I wanted a cigarette...sooo badly...(yes, I have started smoking again...sshhhh). And I couldn't leave the house at the time to have one (no smoking in the apt.). So I, for some reason, started singing in my head "I wanna have a smoke" to the tune of "I wanna be adored" by The Stone Roses. Which led me to thinking about them and that song (so simple...so good). And here I am. Melancholy, craving nicotine (still) and on a Stone Roses kick.

I'm in a craptastic mood right now.

Fool's Gold.

I feel like a fucking prospector in the Wild West during the California Gold Rush of 1849. But not. Because everything in my pan, starts out having such great promise, all glittery and shiny, and then it turns out not to be the real thing.

Sometimes I find out within a month or two.

Sometimes it takes me a decade or so.

But the result is the same.

Promises turned to naught.



Image by Aeric M. Goujon, October 2007