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I know, my dear Jesus, when those long rains finally hit,
I'll bring you dinner—just some bread tucked under my arm,
but walking into the room, I’ll see you looking so heavy-hearted,
your holy face bowed over the morning news.

I’ll just sit down nearby, trying not to be noticed,
watching the shadows fall across your pure expression.
As your eyes drift from one headline to the next,
flipping through page after page with such intensity.

How could I even begin to comfort you in that moment,
standing there before you, completely overwhelmed by shame?
And would I even find the strength in my voice,
if I were standing there trying to defend this world to you?

I’d probably just collapse under the weight of those words.
Maybe a bit of human joy would flicker in my eyes.
I’d whisper to you, my voice barely holding together,
just asking that our little country keeps spinning on.

Then I’d quietly slip out the door.
Leaving you alone to sit with your sorrow.
Praying at the threshold that the scent of warm, fresh bread
on the table might soothe your anger.

It takes an entire ocean to stay unbroken

Karen, grab me a seat, show me some love, and fix me a drink
I've totally lost my way—honestly, I'm way past my prime
Look, I'm telling you—this isn't who I really am
Seriously, this just isn't me
Karen, trust me—you just haven't seen me at my best yet

Infinity feels just as close as it does distant

Heavy Heart

Kimberly Smith said: Heavy Heart

Poor guy—he really needs to figure this out one way or another.

OT: Southern Belle

It’s honestly just too much. I don't even know how to put it.

I remember you posting this somewhere before. My memory is a damn curse, haha.

Just realized there's a mosquito in here with me. 😠

The Lone Surfer

Where do mosquitoes even go in the winter??

Yeah, I’ve been putting stuff of Elliott's everywhere lately. His passing was honestly the biggest musical tragedy we've seen in years—just a total loss. He was pure talent, seriously... you rarely see a musician with that kind of range.

Oakland

I have no idea what happened to him. I didn't go to school for that.

My favorite guy in the whole world, and today is all about him:

Suzanne

Kimberly Smith said:I honestly have no clue what happened to him—just wasn't paying attention.

For you: https://www.theguardian.com/music/20...k.elliottsmith

It’s hard to really wrap your head around someone stabbing a knife into a heart—until it actually happens to someone you know.

Dennis Hall41 said:For you: https://www.theguardian.com/music/20...k.elliottsmith

It’s hard to wrap your head around the idea of someone driving a knife into a heart until it actually happens to someone you know.

Gave me chills. I can't even imagine it. Not happening.

Dennis Hall41 said:God, I swear, on those long rainy nights,
when I bring you dinner with bread tucked under my arm,
walking into the room, I see you just looking so miserable,
your holy face hunched over the morning papers.

I’ll sit down beside you, trying not to be noticed,
watching the shadows cross your pure face.
As your eyes scan from one headline to the next,
flipping through page after page in a frenzy.

How am I even supposed to comfort you then,
just standing there, absolutely paralyzed by shame?
And would I even have the guts in my voice,
to actually defend this crazy world when I'm standing before you?

I’d probably just collapse under the weight of these words.
Maybe some spark of human joy would flicker in my eyes.
"Oh, Lord," I’d whisper, my voice barely holding together,
"just let our little country keep spinning."

Then I’d quietly slip out the door.
Leaving you alone to deal with all that pain.
Praying at the threshold that the scent of fresh, warm bread
on the table might soothe your anger.

Who wrote this?

Every single time I hear a song by Elton John, I honestly feel dirty, or "violated" as Americans would put it.

Live at the Fillmore

Bradley Martin56 said:Who wrote this?

Nikola Šop. My bad—I should've signed it.

Some guy used to go to class with my grandma—he was pretty quiet, apparently.