Hopeless Wanderer
Mumford & SonsWow, Mumford & Sons is really playing into my Warm Bodies kick that I’m on. This song reminds me of R.
You heard my voice I came out of the woods by choiceShelter also gave their shadeAnd in the dark I have no nameSo leave that click in my headAnd I will remember the words that you saidLeft a clouded mind and a heavy heartBut I was sure we could see a new start
So when your hopes on fireBut you know your desireDon’t hold a glass over the flameDon’t let your heart grow coldI will call you by nameI will share your road
But hold me fast, Hold me fastCuz I’m a hopeless wandererAnd hold me fast, Hold me fastCuz I’m a hopeless wanderer
I wrestled long with my youthWe tried so hard to live in the truthBut do not tell me all is fineWhen I lose my head, I lose my spineSo leave that click in my headAnd I won’t remember the words that you saidYou brought me out from the coldNow, how I long, how I long to grow old
So when your hopes are on fireBut you know your desireDon’t hold a glass over the flameDon’t let your heart grow coldI will call you by nameI will share your road
But hold me fast, Hold me fastCuz I’m a hopeless wandererAnd hold me fast, Hold me fastCuz I’m a hopeless wandererAnd I will learn, I will learn to love the skies I’m underAnd I will learn, I will learn to love the skies I’m underThe skies I’m under
Ask Grigio. Er, Cabernet.
julie-cabernet-grigio.tumblr.comSo this time, thanks to a couple cat naps (which, in turn, are thanks to that awfully long salvage trip yesterday evening) I had today, I’m the one up while R sleeps beside me. He’s all curled up, kinda in the fetal position. Self-esteem issues? That’s what they say it means. Don’t know where that could’ve come from. What is there to be self-conscious about here and now? I mean with how the world is. No one to impress, no fashion staples to look up to, no trends to follow. Those fickle things are stuff of the past. I don’t know. Some things you’ll never know, with this shrugger here. Although he is getting better with his former zombie speech impediments — that I’m super grateful for. And for his kindness and thoughtfulness. And he isn’t too bad of a kisser for someone who was dead for… God knows how long. I try not to think about it. I can’t think about it (or anything else) when he’s actually doing it. This cheeseball’s romanticism is rubbing off on me for sure, but surprisingly, I’m okay with it.
Anyway, shoot me a message in my Ask section. Not like I have anything better to do, at least for the remainder of tonight.
Grigio, out.
