Spring Cleaning-Witness

[00:00.000] 作曲 : Witness (John Parr) [00:09.97]There's a method to the madness of this attic I'm accustomed to [00:12.77]But every spring I try to visit with a brush and broom [00:15.07]Dust consumes this collection of souvenirs [00:17.27]And tonight I'd like to erase any proof that you were here [00:19.84]Let's begin with a look inside of a shoe box [00:22.39]Here's my youthful aspiration to be 2pac [00:25.08]A book on Darwin with photos of the Galapagos [00:27.65]Here's a picture of the father that I never got to know [00:30.15]A shot my mother bathing her babies in a sink [00:32.51]A mediocre poem that I wrote in golden ink [00:35.03]And over here is a crate of academic records [00:37.55]I traded in for vinyl when I learned I could apply em better [00:40.07]It's apparent that I haven't cleaned in ages when I'm finding [00:42.59]Social studies books with porn between the pages [00:44.79]Born in fetal stages and cluttered ever since [00:47.32]This attic needs the vacancy to make some room to think [00:49.87]But in the corner there's a chest that's under lock and key [00:52.42]And possibly the target of the cleansing [00:55.03]And as it opens there's a part of me that's over it and part of me [00:57.47]That wants to keep remembering [01:20.21]Dear John [01:20.89]I'm ecstatic that we met and I [01:22.57]Haven't been upset from the night we spoke on the beach [01:24.61]It feels like there's a part of me that's hollow [01:27.14]And I'll follow you because I think you've got the missing piece [01:29.80]Dear John [01:30.76]Can't believe it's been a year, wish that you were here with me in this unfamiliar city [01:34.54]I know you're insecurities are eating you alive, but I'm thinking of your eyes every time we... [01:39.72]Dear John, [01:40.63]I'm the victim of a city serpent's venom and I'm being sent away [01:43.38]In search of purpose [01:44.62]It hurts that anniversaries are only words to me and lately I've been wondering why you thought I was worth it [01:49.70]She ran shoe less through shards of my heart of glass toward a garden of golden roses with invisible thorns [01:54.58]And her presence in my attic is an umbilical cord that pulls my physical form towards her miserable storm [01:59.69]I stripped the picture frames of their faces [02:01.90]And liberated shackled chain letters from my ankles and wrists [02:04.51]And kept my fingers from the edges of the envelopes and anything [02:07.20]That might have had a dance with her lips