Okkervil River - It Ends With A Fall‏

Wish I could remember why it mattered to me.
It doesn't matter to me.
It doesn't matter to me anymore.
Now that you're
Feeling fine,
Ill admit that though

I know its coming down and see it shattering me
It doesn't matter to me,
And I'm not sadder for
Seeing it come.
I'm not going to run.
I will just come
When I am called.

You want to cut me off
Because I took too much,
But don't leave me alone
Take off your scarves,
Your winter coat.
The nights too cold.

When we met I should have said you're like a sister to me,
How all that kiss her just seem
Like puny suitors I can see through,
How none will do,
No not for you,
It might as well just be us two.

And when I pulled you by the jacket from the clattering street,
You started flattering me,
You started saying I was so strong.
String me along,
But I cant become
All that I'm called.

And I cant claim to know
What makes love die or grow,
But I can still take control
And so refuse to just go home,
Back down the hall.

And as I crawl,
As finally all
The false confetti blooms
Up in this attic room,
Im going make my stand.
I want to see both of your hands
Put down the phone.

I wont let you go,
Although
The moment stole
My self-control
From us all
And now it can only end
End with a fall.

Okkervil River - A Stone

Hot breath,
Rough skin,
Warm laughs and smiling,
The lovliest words,
Whispered and meant
You like all these things.

But, though you like all these things,
You love a stone.
You love a stone,
Because it's smooth and it's cold.
And you'd love most,
To be told,
That it's all your own.

You love white veins,
You love hard grey,
The heaviest weight,
The clumsiest shape,
The earthiest smell,
The hollowest tone,
You love a stone.

And I'm found too fast,
Called too fond of flames,
And I'm phoning my friends,
And I'm shouldering the blame,
While you're picking pebbles,
Out of the drain,
Miles ago.
And you're out singing songs,
And I'm down shouting names,
At the flickerless screen,
Going fucking insane.
Am I losing my cool,
Overstating my case?
Well, baby what can I say?

You know I never claimed,
That I was a stone.
And you love a stone.
You love white veins,
You love hard grey,
The heaviest weight,
The clumsiest shape,
The earthiest smell,
The hollowest tone,
You love a stone.

You love a stone,
Because it's dark and it's old,
And if it could start,
Being alive,
You'd stop living alone.

And I think I believe that,
If stones could dream,
They'd dream of being laid,
Side-by-side,
Piece-by-piece,
And turned into a castle,
For some towering queen,
They're unable to know.

And when that queen's daughter
Came of age,
I think she'd be lovely
And stubborn and brave,
And suitors would journey,
From kingdoms away,
Just to make themselves known.

And I think that I know,
The bitter dismay,
Of a lover who brought,
Fresh brouquets every day,
When she turned him away,
To remember some knave,
Who once gave,
Just one rose,
One day,
Years ago.