I feel so strange when I talk to you.
Those few weeks were painful yet sweet.
I see you and think this could've been our times.
I write crippled songs, they could've been our rhymes.
We're goldfish in a bowl with three minute memories.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish, as little as can be.
Three minute memories,
They matter to me.
I feel so strange when we walk side by side.
That one walk for ten minutes was heaven.
I see you and wonder why I ever asked you out.
I can see the road, but I still fumble about.
We're goldfish in a bowl with three minute memories.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish, as little as can be
Three minute memories,
They matter to me.
I feel so strange when you smile, and I.
There is no we, just you and my skin.
I see you smile and think that after all.
What I gave away hurts me less when I fall.
We're goldfish in a bowl with three minute memories.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish, as little as can be
Three minute memories,
They matter to me.
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Well, if you must.
- Dhruva
- Getting by with the help of cellotaped steps, friends and other objects in the rearview mirror.
10 comments:
three minutes... they matter to me. [:)]
yes. it does.
i'll continue visiting your blog. but dont know if i'll manage good comments. [:)]
phele dio raani jodi she phul shukai....
wish you were here. :)
nice.
ah
i just simply loved this!really heartfelt
Dhruva, I like this, also, I love the idea of goldfish. in a bowl. sad but charming, in a bowl.
One of them is dying a slow and painful death, and I don't know what to do.
We never know what to do. We just have to let them be. These days I just try to mix some morphine in the water. All good goldfish come back to life, though. As soon as the memory of death is wiped clean.
brilliant.
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