Lyrics

The Ewing's Sarcoma Blues

I did promise lyrics, so here they are. They might not match the original entirely, as the original is very abstract (in other words, I kinda made a lot of it up as I went along). But anyway, this is the gist of it.

The song, by the way, is dedicated to Dr. Jan Kohler (apologies if my spelling is wrong) and the staff of Piam Brown Ward, SGH.

Oh, and I guess you'll want the link, too.

I've got Ewing's Sarcoma
In my right hip,
And chemotherapy
Well it feels like >shit.

It's Ewing's Sarcoma

Ewing's Sarcoma
Gets you down,
But I've got no eyebrows
So I can't even frown,

It's Ewing's Sarcoma

Alopecia,
Your hair falls out,
I'm definitely better
With hair than without,

It's Ewing's Sarcoma

Diarrhoea,
You shit like hell,
Goin' every five minutes,
And don't ask about the smell,

It's Ewing's Sarcoma

Neutropenia
Your white cells die,
Your bone marrow's fucked
And you know the reason why,

It's Ewing's Sarcoma

---

I wrote these next few songs after listening to a lot of Elliott Smith. It probably shows, and I'm not responsible for any depression caused :P.

An airless cell

This is where he comes to,
This is where he comes to rest his head
She sleeps like an angel
Wings furled, body curled up in her bed

He turns, hears his name called
Sees nothin' but he swears that
He felt her touch
He finishes his drink
Bottle's empty but it didn't seem all that much

chorus
And he looks at the skies,
And the stars in his eyes
Put ice in his veins

Jumps the cracks in the pavement
Gripped by fear of the horrors he might find
Can't find a replacement
To fill the gaping holes throughout his mind

So still he swallows his fake love
Just to hear her whisper in his ear
Her face is all he can think of
It's just a cruel pastiche that she's still here

rep. chorus, into bridge:

And if the eyes are the gateway
The gateway to the soul
There's no reaching him
'Cause the gate's barred shut

The mind's eye is helpless
It ain't got a window for it to see
All it has is a candle
And a fading photo of an angel fast asleep

Tired

The door is locked,
He made sure when he walked in,
The glass stares back, shocked,
The mask and the wood is thin

But he doesn't care, no,
He doesn't care

'Cause the grinning clown that he
Clutches in his hands is just
The lifeless trickster that
Only runs skin deep

But he doesn't care, no,
He doesn't care

But he doesn't care, no,
He doesn't care

And a sleight of hand can
Move a card its place
But despite his tired charade,
He can't slide her seven to match his ace

And she doesn't care, no,
She doesn't care

And as her eyes pierce the thin
Mask, the lone joker still in his hand
His worries flow from him
There's relief beneath the joker's grin

But he'll never care, no,
He'll never care

v>