There's a house on my block that's abandoned and cold
The folks moved out of it a long time ago
They took all their things
and they never came back
It looks like it's haunted, with the windows all cracked
Everyone calls it the house,
the house where nobody lives
Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away?
Did they know what it means?
Did someone's heart break,
or did someone do somebody wrong?
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away?
Did they know what it means?
Did someone's heart break,
or did someone do somebody wrong?
Well the paint was all cracked,
it was peeled off of the wood
Papers were stacked on the porch where I stood
and the weeds had grown up just as high as the door
There were birds in the chimney, and an old chest of drawers
Looks like no one will ever come back
it was peeled off of the wood
Papers were stacked on the porch where I stood
and the weeds had grown up just as high as the door
There were birds in the chimney, and an old chest of drawers
Looks like no one will ever come back
to the house were nobody lives
Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away?
Did they know what it means?
Did someone's heart break,
or did someone do somebody wrong?
So if you find someone;
someone to have, someone to hold,
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away?
Did they know what it means?
Did someone's heart break,
or did someone do somebody wrong?
So if you find someone;
someone to have, someone to hold,
don't trade it for silver, don't trade it for gold
Because I have all of life's treasures
and they’re fine and they're good
They remind me that houses
are just made of wood
What makes a house grand ain't the roof or the doors
If there's love in a house, it's a palace for sure
Without love, it ain't nothin but a house...
a house where nobody lives
~ Tom Waits
Because I have all of life's treasures
and they’re fine and they're good
They remind me that houses
are just made of wood
What makes a house grand ain't the roof or the doors
If there's love in a house, it's a palace for sure
Without love, it ain't nothin but a house...
a house where nobody lives
~ Tom Waits
The loneliness is too much to bare,
and the pain, too great.
Everything I love hurts me.
Everything that has given me joy,
hurts me.
“Here within my lonely frame,
my eyes just hurt my brain” ~ The Yardbirds.
The loss of wildlife
and innocent animals by the machines of man,
people in all their selfish pursuits,
my favourite tv shows to my favourite songs,
and what’s left of my memory,
only seem to hurt me.
When someone like Clarence Clemons passes away,
or seeing death on the face of Robin Gibb,
another chunk of my youthfulness falls off me,
and slips away.
I cry and cry and cry.
I can’t stand this world.
It’s incredibly sad,
and grows more and more cruel every single day.
With a thimble full of hope,
I’ve managed to stay engaged,
following my passions,
keeping one foot in and one foot out,
one step ahead,
and three steps back.
And it amazes me,
the sense of humour and playfullness
that I can sometimes still have with it.
But it’s really pathetic when I’m expected
to convince myself and others
that my soul is any less tortured or in peril
than it actually is.
While my bank account depletes,
and my future never more questionable,
I can’t find any meaning or reason for it,
at all.
And the pain inside continues to grow ever deeper.
Much of this pain I carry around,
I’ve carried around my entire life.
But ever since those biggest lies hit me;
hit, hurt, and humiliated,
I’ve come to realize just how much of this life
is nothing but a lie upon a lie, upon a lie, upon a lie.
"Your heroes turn out to be assholes,
and the light in the tunnel that you've been chasin'
is a train" ~ unknown.
I may sound naive, but I’m really not.
I’ve been the strong, confident,
independent woman all my life,
fearless,
choosing to believe in myself and having faith,
while wrecklessly,
and sometimes self-destructively,
totally and completely falling in love with experience.
And my coping skills have taken a beating.
I don’t care to fight the battle anymore.
The suit of armour that you have to wear
to go out there
no longer fits,
and the masks won’t stay in place on my face.
Pamela des Barres describes herself,
and me at the same time,
when she says:
"I was always such a seeker,
though all the way through it,
it seems I've had an unworthy feeling,
like I didn't deserve the great things in life,
yet I somehow kept expecting them.
That constant hope seems to have diminished,
but I know I could change it in a snap."
Oh, I’ve changed it in a snap alright,
many, many, and many times over.
But that last time I snapped,
I was 46.
And when I proved to be unworthy yet again,
the chances of finding happiness
became slimmer than ever.
I really want to be part of something;
something important, something special;
something smart;
something that I can love, respect,
and care about, deeply.
Finding it in the old-age home
is not what I had in mind.
After years of going from one lover to another,
one home to another,
one job to another,
one social circle to the other,
finding the one who,
before hurting me more than any other,
and the community he revolved in,
was the closest I’d come to
what I’d been seeking all along.
It may sound absurd,
being that in reality,
I was really so very far from the heart of it.
And it is absurd.
But good, bad, right, wrong, or ugly,
it’s the truth.
I’m a rock and roll romantic,
and I thought maybe, just maybe,
all my dreams could finally come true.
But the passionate fire that burned inside me
was extinguished by
a very, very, very cold pail of water.
And it may have been all just part of my mid-life crisis,
but it left me as crushed as the ten-year-old
whose best friend broke all her crayons,
before going off with the new kid in the school yard.
I live in a constant state of disappointment.
And the emptiness inside is forever expanding.
That community I need,
like the intimate love,
and real emotional connection I seek,
remains elusive.
And if I’m expected to carry on,
I need those things like never before.
It’s just like Peter Tork says...
"If you don't have a sense of community
or a higher power,
then you blame yourself,
think bad of yourself,
struggle,
and try to divert.
One form of diversion is entertaining.
If you can make thousands love you,
you'll be all right.
But in fact,
it makes no fucking difference.
It's a kick when you're on stage,
but an hour and a half later,
it starts all over."
I can’t stand it.
I desperately need to believe in love,
and in human beings,
and to unleash the flood of love
that’s been forever trapped inside me.
It’s complete torture otherwise.
And this shell of a body
that I walk around in every day
is described best by Tom Waits.
In that song of his...
The House Where Nobody Lives.
I really should get up and wipe away the dust
that weighs heavy on the baseboards
at the bottom of the walls surrounding me,
and looking out the back window,
I really should go out and rake those leaves.
As I listen to the singer-songwriter,
also known as genius,
completely nail it.
He nails it!
Describing the block I live on,
the body I walk around in,
and the brick house that shelters me.
Listening to it, I hear the old soul,
my broken heart,
and the truth of it tears me apart.
"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds'.
I do not agree.
The wounds remain.
In time, the mind, protecting its sanity,
covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens,
but it is never gone." ~ Rose Kennedy
