The lyrics to "here.in my head" by Tori Amos. It reminds me both of high school (L, anyone?) and the past 7 years. Those who not learn from the past......
Here. In My Head
in my head i found you there and
running around and following me
but you don’t, oh, dare, now
but i find that i have, now
more then i ever wanted to
so maybe thomas jefferson
wasn’t born in your backyard
like you have said and
maybe i’m just the horizon you run to when
she has left you there, you, are
here in my head
and running around and calling me
“come back i’ll show you the roses
that brush off the snow
and open their petals again and again”
and you know that
apple green ice cream
can melt in your hands
i can’t, so…
i held your hand at the fair
and even forgot what time it was
and even thomas jefferson
wasn’t born in your backyard
like you have said and
maybe i’m just the horizon you run to
when she has left
you and me here
alone on the floor
you’re counting my feathers
as the bells toll
you see the bow and the belt
and the girl from the south
all favorites of mine
you know them all well
and spring brings fresh little puddles
that makes it all clear
makes it all…
hey, do you know
hey, do you know
what this is doing to me?
oh, here…
here…
here. in my head
running around and following me
but you don’t, oh, dare, now
but i find that i have, now
more then i ever wanted to
so maybe thomas jefferson
wasn’t born in your backyard
like you have said and
maybe i’m just the horizon you run to when
she has left you there, you, are
here in my head
and running around and calling me
“come back i’ll show you the roses
that brush off the snow
and open their petals again and again”
and you know that
apple green ice cream
can melt in your hands
i can’t, so…
i held your hand at the fair
and even forgot what time it was
and even thomas jefferson
wasn’t born in your backyard
like you have said and
maybe i’m just the horizon you run to
when she has left
you and me here
alone on the floor
you’re counting my feathers
as the bells toll
you see the bow and the belt
and the girl from the south
all favorites of mine
you know them all well
and spring brings fresh little puddles
that makes it all clear
makes it all…
hey, do you know
hey, do you know
what this is doing to me?
oh, here…
here…
here. in my head
No comments:
Post a Comment