Една песен. Private Hell

Sometimes you come accross a song that seems to be written about you, as if you've written it yourself (only, you know you didn't, as you're not that talented).

As if the person who wrote it could in some genius way see inside yourself and then he exposed it for everyone to see.

At first you think it's all your interpretation, but then one day you get to hear his explanation of the lyrics - and it is exactly what you thought,
and what you felt,
and what you experienced,
and you realize that you got him right from the very beginning.
Or, he got you right.





Give away your love and then remove another tomb
Painted words adorn the walls, echoing untrue
I feel cold.

Promises abound, you rarely find it to begin
Maybe I'm afraid to let you all the way in
I guess so.

I excuse myself
I'm used to my little cell
I amuse myself
In my very own private hell

Lately I'm beside myself, pretending unconcerned
Standing at a corner where I threw you on a turn
I'll move on.

Flowers on a cross remain, marking an ending scene
Damn it all if blood you spill, turn the grass more green
Life is short.

I excuse myself
I'm used to my little cell

I amuse myself
In my very own private hell

Private Hell