Muse 88: Home

found via yuli.bow

Things weren't so difficult he decided. The country was foreign, but the scenery was breathtaking in that way. He loved how he could look out the window and hear the sounds of people passing. They were so alive, and full of soul. He didn't have to strain and stress over every syllable. The cars seemed to be a different shade than the ones from home - a duller, nostalgic color that was oddly admirable. The man inside that buggy could've been once a general, now enjoying the calm of the day. As he watched the world spin around him, he ate his cereal. Nothing moved too fast or too slow, and this was exactly how he wanted to live.

Muse 3: Ribcage Song

credit: http://ghostpatrol.net/

We sat beneath the wych elm tree, and you were singing, "Oh skeletal bones, oh skeletal bones where will you be when I've gone home." I looked at you curiously, wondering where that song had played on the radio. Were you trying to sing a song about us? And you looked at me with that child-like song vibrating in the air as you kept on singing, "Can I hold your hand, can I call you home - you're, you're that cage that protects when I'm alone." Your voice might have been ratty and gritty like old bones in dry sand, but you still sounded so lovely to me.