Tomorrow - Mat Kearney (w/ lyrics)

This Song Is Amazing. But I Must Warn You. It WILL Cost You 4 Minutes Of Your Life.

But Those 4 Minutes, Could Change The Next 40 Years. Open Your Mind, And Hit Play. Read Every Word, Of The Whole Song.

October 17, 11:59p.m.

October 17, 11:59p.m.

(in one minute, everything can change)

On this day last year, October 18, 2009,

You told me it was the worst birthday you’ve ever had.
So I'm writing this on October 17, at 11:59.

Thanks…

That was during OUR relationship.

Guess they can only get better without me.

Happy Birthday…

Like a ghost in my presence, on a cold October morning the gentle winds in my soul stir my heart this day.  Green tea held by hands that shiver, these memories are so dear to me. Through the forest of life, I track your steps, haunted by your voice in my mind, living without your touch.

Leaves that twist around me, and timber that falls on top of me, this path has beat me up, and broke my heart. Happy Birthday on this day, twenty nine years passed, seventy one left, that you'll be missing from my life.

Happy Birthday…

These words are not dreams. They are broken moments of love mixed with painful memories.  My stomach hurts. But it’s not caused by milk duds and gum balls.  It’s a sharp pain, that dulls a little more with each passing day.  These memories, they echo like the scream of an eagle, pinpointing the pain in the center of my chest.  Decisions that change lives, choices that break hearts, this was our destiny.  Tools we were, to complete our future, and expand our minds.

Happy Birthday…

Trade winds from the north push south to my house. Carrying with them the image of a woman. Someone who prefers to stand alone, and needs no one.  And in these winds, are mixed radio waves that render images of you and me.  A scent carried by the seeds of memories planted in you and me.

Happy Birthday…

I use to run from this. Hiding from the pain. But no matter how far I ran, kamikaze pilots still crashed you into me. So finally I stopped, I turned, and I faced this. I let the reality enter my heart like a snake bite in the plains.  And as I rest in the sand of the scorching desert, centipedes and scorpions enter my shoes and my mind. The sting is lethal, it will kill me in time, I rest delusional until then, with this picture by my side.

Happy birthday...

I mean that from my heart. As memories rain on me from the heavens above. Storms that collect puddles at my feet. Lightning that lights up moments that electrify me. Thunder that rumbles the foundation of me. How long can God punish his people for their mistakes?  You once posted on your page after we broke up, “Some of Gods Greatest Gifts Are Unanswered Prayers”  Impressive my dear, I felt the knife as it went in, but I hope God grants every single last prayer of yours, now that you’re free from me.

Happy Birthday…

I don't write to love. I live to love. I write to release.  I write for free.  Memories and feelings that stack up inside of me.  Boxed up without bubble wrap, these moments are broken when shipped to you. Sign for these feelings, or leave them on your steps, so many nights I stood outside that door trying to talk to you.  Its best for both of us if you simply disregard me, like you did for most of the time that you knew me. 

Happy Birthday…

Here's to common dreams washed out by the waves of relentless tears.  Here's to chasing hearts that faded far before their potential was met. Here’s to the moments, that molded minds, broke hearts, and changed lives.  And here's to the monsters of the past that frequent minds so torn, so bruised, so broken, that weeds cover the dreams of the yellow brick road.

When my mind fills up, I add ink, and I fill my printer with blank white paper and watch it spill stories filled with carbon vapors. Ingesting moments of love poison, dizzy from the moment, broken from the routine.  The creativity in me neglected by the robotic routine in you.  So many days, with so many pains, so many strains, with nothing further to gain. Boot camp from the back seat, I was never worthy to you, never side by side with you, never an equal in your eyes. But I'll take emotion, and realism, over corporate driven capitalism, you are a soldier of the industry.

Happy Birthday…

Day drops and dreamsickles, morning dew resting on my shoes, moments of imaginary wonder, those days warmed my heart when you gave back. Not even wizards with wands could have saved us on that day. This outcome was inevitable, as I counted the days my heart burned and burned. 

But when you turn your back on someone you love, you can expect the landslide to eventually come.  And it came. In the form of gradual gain. Gradual loss that consumed our days.  This is not pleasure nor payback, this is emotion, in epic proportion releasing from me. So I can move forward, without looking backwards, suspended in moments, caught up without you, while I was with you.

Happy Birthday…

You see, sometimes you ran to fast for me...you let go of my hand and ran. You didn't look back to see that I couldn't keep up with you, branches were lashing my face, as I chased after you.  So many times, I stopped on that dirt path we called a relationship, and I caught my breath as you turned your back. So many times I came to you, to talk to you, to walk with you, to stand by you.  And I was met by a silent phone and a door that never opened for me.

I'm not asking you for anything. I know I'm just a memory. But specifically, I wish you missed me.  And I'm sorry that we breached the peace, illegitimately. I'm sorry that we broke the trust, each time each of us lied so easily.  Hearts replaced with pine cones, needles piercing my heart, this forest thickens like chicken noodle soup, when your heart sails from mine. Wedged in a moment, is a memory of love, once as shiny as a gold token, now tarnished with rust and dust.

But we chase love on a battlefield with hearts as shields, and words and decisions as the swords that pierce our steel. We choke on moments, that act as gags and bullets.  But who we are, IS who we are, not who we wish we weren't.  You can't change the opinions of the past, but you can mold the minds of the future. Hang on, but don't hold on, let up, but don't let go.

Love is not cynical, it is cyclical. We take the position of the broken, or the breaker. These positions alternate, much like that of election years for senators. The balance of power applies within relationships as well.  I don't mind the division. I've become accustomed to it over the years. I'm well versed in mathematics and radicals.

And then there's the radio...

Love music wasn't made to "pain" us. It was made to stain us. With dreams of forever, with a lover of now, not tomorrow.  These songs that play, one after another, remind me of you, remind me of us, remind me of once what was.  It’s hard to turn my back on love…I’m doing my best.

You never looked at me. You looked through me. On your way to dreams that didn't include me.  I was nothing more than a rest area on your interstate. Your cruise control set at such a rate, that the authorities couldn't even catch up to let you know.

I keep this stuff basic, to protect my heart, basically. Take a deep breath, and taste the air, the crisp carnations of brand new beginnings that tickle the taste buds that once burnt me.  We walk on cardboard floors that render shards of glass in our toes. Trivial?  Not really, traumatic is more realistic.

We can’t be expected to survive these floods, when the levees of love break and collapse this trust.  There are these moments I have, where the weakness is rendered within me, and the tears are the evidence on the outside of me. And I take a moment, to turn away from the crowd, and I close my eyes and I dream about, those moments we shared when our hands held tight.

Happy Birthday…

Tactics and semantics, problems and payback, you admitted you drug your feet on important issues just to breach the peace. Do you know what that feels like to know you're wrong, and still fight the one you love? That is selfish and spiteful, and that was the dynamite that built that bomb. And that fuse was long, neither of us really knew how long, but when it finally reached the end, it split us in two. This was a war, a battle of dark versus gentle, and when I finally failed to move forward, I was to blame.

I missed you dearly when you went to Miami. I sat home and realized how much I loved you. I wrote, from morning to night, filled up notebooks and even cried. Pathetic to the reader maybe, but this girl touched my heart, and held my hand just right. I cursed the problems we had, and I put my faith in God, my mind was so broken from our bumpy path. But one thing remained constant to me, through everything. I could not deny my love for you. I could not turn my back, and forget you. We compromised our own lives, just to keep one another. I realized that was not love, but rather robbery. That I was not your destiny, but rather your rebound for tomorrow and today.

Days upon days, month after month I begged for your love. For your open mind. Setting sail on my own, without you by my side. Psychologically I was broken, feeling like I was fighting for us all alone. And I was. I really was. I fixed every fight, offered every first apology, and finally I ran out of will.  I ran out of drive, to drive to your house, to tell you how I feel.

And it was then, while feeling like the mud on the bottom of your shoe, that I slept with another girl.  You blamed me for this action, but this is what finally set both of us free. I could only take so many lies, so many unanswered calls, so many locked doors, before my heart took refuge in the arms of another girl. Someone who knew our situation, and manipulated my weakness.  But I don't point the blame, I take the blame. God has magical ways of setting us free. And he knew I would forever be your love slave.  But in these moments, he gave me the strength, to make me realize you gave less than 50% to me.

Happy Birthday…

This is not exposure. This is the truth in me, coming out on my blog, for any reader to see.  I do not fear judgment. I do not fear the eyes of the crowd. I am not hiding from what happened, and I am not scared to write it.  Life happens.  We make decisions every day that reinforce, or ruin tomorrow.  We get pushed to a point, by the ones that we love, to a dangerous level, where we act on anger and impulse.  We make decisions that break the traditions of tomorrow.  We speak words that hurt feelings, and resonate for hours.

At times, we take the shape of a snake, the face of a cobra, and choke like a python. We are mercenaries, marching in the mountains of myth, searching for a love that may or may not exist.  Life experience, in itself, IS proof, that love IS a battlefield.  These thorns create memories that wound us, when we chase that rose. Walking alone, is better than walking with the wrong company I suppose, and that’s the lifestyle I’ve become accustomed to. 

Hypnotized by hidden lies, tornado's twisting stories, lifting love from its fragile foundation.

You blamed me when this failed. But when I was drowning, you never bothered to help me out. You sat on that dock, and watched me slip below the surface. And as my face faded in that murky water, you smiled at me. And instead of fighting for me, you used this opportunity to manipulate and get away from me. Blaming me, so you could play in the sun with the summer boys.

I could write words for years, but they'd never make sense to you. Perspective is something you won't explore, through anyone's eyes but yours.  And it’s fine if you want to set your value at a million dollars, but through life don't turn your back on the best offer.  It’s obvious, that there is nobody out there good enough for you,  but if you don’t want to live your whole life alone, at some point you’re going to have to lower your standards enough, to accept a human.

I still see you...

There are these dreams that recur in me, mixed memories with love theme's.  Emotions mixed with claims of your own self promotions, while this rose bush withers away. Drops of rain from the sky, keep this thorn bush alive for another day.  Hearts with sores, chasing dreams that once soared together in unison, crocodiles nipping at my feet while rainbows render pots of gold for those that let go of me.

And I push on. Hopping hurdles on hilltops, chasing dreams that God promised to me. But sometimes we hobble to the finish line, with frustration wrapped around our mind.  Broken, in moments of everlasting glory, where the love we shared got away from you and me.  These don't have to be lifetime nightmares, because as soon as we let go, they are simply lessons taught to you and me.  Value in the lesson, love in the memory, you'll be just fine without me.

This breakup was a blessing. We are two different people. I never could have been your fitness king, and you never could have been my affectionate queen.  Asking you to stop for a second, and savor the moment, was a chore for you, because it didn't fall within YOUR desires or YOUR agenda.

We both walked a fine line, on an unstable bridge.  Boards and bolts rusting and rotting out. It was only a matter of time, before one of us fell out of the picture. Kodak film, creating a frame, that didn't stretch long enough for life to include both our names on the same.  Protect yourself from people wearing shoes covered in mud.  I've learned one thing in this life for sure...you won't get through this life if you can't accept that some dreams will turn to dust.  They don't always have to burn out, but they do have to adjust, and recreate.

We hold hands that feel right, but eventually let go, we carve faces into pumpkins that nobody knows.  We are portraits of our past, or we are reinvention's of the future, we are dynamic, with changing needs, or we are the water stuck in the puddle, drying up with each splash we let others take.  We accept failure as a lesson, or we never let go.  We wander aimlessly, or reset, get ready, and go…away.

We are the end of a broken road, or the fire that burns a new path, we blaze with passion in a land with light, far after any sunset.  I haven't a clue what tomorrow holds, but I can forecast the outcome of each step.  I can believe in my own heart, without having any other touch.

You took me for granted, day in and day out.  I did so much for you.  Invested so much in you.  But my mind is not for rent. You invest in me for a lifetime, or you leave me alone forever.  You chose one, now I’m choosing the other.  I wish you the best, not only on this day, your Birthday, but on every other day.  You are strong, a leader, a looker, you don’t require anyone by your side, and at times, I questioned whether you ever even wanted anyone by your side.  I hope this birthday was your best yet.  I’ll always remember you telling me your last one was your worst.  The one you spent with me.  That feeling will never fully go away.

I was choked out, and constricted, so many things I wanted to do for you. So many dreams I wanted to share with you.  Burning desires, that never had to burn out, but if you don’t stop the fire, the house WILL burn to the ground.  This is not magic.  This is the unstopped deterioration of melting love, liquefied and drained from our bones, our bodies robbed of the very nutrients that kept us warm together on so many nights.

Happy Birthday…

I did not come here to hurt, burn or conquer anyone.  I came here to bow, before a woman I loved, and hold her hand, for all of time.  I came with the intentions, of everlasting roses and memories.  The winds from the south came between our bodies, and separated us from our goals, and have left painful memories.  The mountains came between our hands, and our dreams.

At any rate, I have lived.  I have learned.  I have burned, and have turned my back on the people that have turned theirs on me.  Sometimes I lay awake at night, and I wonder patiently.  I wonder if in Heaven, all broken hearts are mended into one.  If lovers turned to leavers, reunite as one.  I wonder if the very moments that shaped our hearts, and then changed our hearts, will be forgiven inside you and me.

These aren’t joyous moments.  These lacerations of the heart cut deep in me.  It is upon me, to learn from past mistakes.  It is on me, to never let the ability to love deeply, leave me.  It is on me, to believe in love for one more day, even when it’s hurting me.  It is on me, to look at pictures of you, and smile, and know you will be just fine.  We all know you’re worth a million Katie…but if I offered you nine hundred thousand, would you even be able to relate to me? Would you understand that we all come from a different land, have all held a different hand, have all been stuck in quick sand, have all been in relationships under planned, and have all spent a lot of time walking alone on this land. 

Fingers pointing the finger, but you can only point out disappoint, for so long. And pretty soon heart goes numb, your voice goes quiet, and this is the point when you slip beneath the surface. When you look in the mirror, and accept that nothing will change. Everything you have asked for, means absolutely nothing to the other.  You can feel yourself drowning, and you know there is no way out, but failure.  You live each day, half alive, still loving, but knowing the end is near.  Knowing that you’re coasting, no longer truly trying. 

Happy Birthday…

This is the worst feeling in the world. It’s like hanging from a cliff, one hand on the mountain, the other in your lovers hand, and your lover knows, the only way she will get the top first, is if she lets your hand go.  And in your heart, you know she’s willing to do that, and that feeling is scary as hell.  And in this moment, physically you still hold on, but subconsciously you begin to let go.  You prepare for the defeat, before your heart becomes the feast.  It’s no doubt, that you are chasing the summit.  Your sole goal is to get to the top.  But while you chase the peaks of tomorrow, have you ever thought of holding someone’s hand during the climb.

You start to build a barrier.  You start to survive for one, instead of two.  You start to plan your exit, knowing she is too.  You fight this feeling, day and night, inside and out.  This is not what you want, but it’s inevitable.  It’s coming, whether you want it to or not.  You start to look at things in a different light, all while trying to hide that you know.  We lay on the couch, and watch a movie, and I savor the moment…I know they are running out.  I look around the room, at the fireplace, the office, the reading room.  The kitchen, where I did so many dishes for you.  I look at the couch, where we spent so many nights, in each other’s arms.  The tracks I take in this house, will belong to another man someday.

This causes my heartburn at night, I stand up and pace the room, sick to my stomach. You ask me if I am okay, but I don’t wish to keep you up.  It is my mind that’s eating me, destroying this moment for us.  This moment, that is running out, right there before us.  I crawl back into bed, and hold you as close as I can, knowing that this breakup is crashing down….

My instinct tells me to beg you, to wake you and plea to you.  To explain my pain, and ask for help.  To tell you I need you to be more open minded, to what I’m talking about.  To ask you to slow down, and love me deeper.  To stop lying to me about the things you’ve lied to me about.  To be honest, and trustworthy, so that we can build this trust.  But I hold my breath.  I know better.  On so many nights, I told you these very things.  I begged you to open your eyes, to some of my needs.  And it got me nowhere…which didn’t make them go away.  And so on those nights, I’ve accepted defeat, knowing my voice is not loud enough, not strong enough, to make you understand my needs.  And so on those nights, I lay in bed next to you….watching us sink, and holding my breath. 

I finally accepted that I could speak enough pleas, and write enough letters, to reach to the bottom of the sea, and nothing would change.  So we failed.  I failed.  Our love came crashing down.  And the whole thing was blamed on me.  Incredible…absolutely incredible, that you could chop a tree down, and then blame the wind for tipping it over.  Incredible that you could cut someone’s heart, but blame the bleeding for the death.  Incredible, that you could trip someone, and blame their balance for the fall.  Incredible,

I don’t need your support.  I don’t need your inspirational quotes.  I don’t need text messages or music videos from you….let me tell you, the last thing I NEED from you….this is MY wish on YOUR birthday…

I need you to fall head over heels in love with a man.  Because that man, will be the only thing that sets me free…

"Perfect" people travel on "one-way" streets...which is fine with me.    -Adam

I'll admit...I live in chains....but the next man you fall in love with, will set my heart free...    -Adam

Make Believe

MAKE BELIEVE...



One text on one night.

Opening the vault of the twilight.

Slivers that cut and sting.

Stains like purple Kool-Aid.

They don't jolt me like they use to...

But rather they embed the fact,

That you still haven't forgot me.

I use to say good...

But now I murmur...

Go away from me.

You boast of every ex that wants you back,

But I Don't...

Your text reads...

"Make Peace With The Past,

So It Wont Screw Up The Present."

Well, I have made peace with the "Problem"

And it wont screw up my "Promise" to me.

No longer do I bow to the rule of Castro,

But rather I rise to a God...

That understands equal compromise.

I've learned, I can bring the Thunder,

And I can also make it go away.

I have dropped memories off a cliff,

So high, so vast, that I cant get them back.

This is my token. My treasure. This is me.

Breaking out of the normal, to write about me.

I don't care who will judge me.

Soft, Broken, Erased, go ahead...

And come at me with the names.

My heart is a jungle of danger,

Scripted from the words of your mouth.

And the very way you've chosen to describe me.

Teach me to be lovable, but don't teach me for free.

Teach me to love, and absorb love alike.

Teach me to turn my back on selfish creatures,

The minute they show that side to me.

Teach me of Culture, Creativity, and Simplicity.

Teach me how to sleep at night.

And let go of the hands I love.

Teach me how to burn these photos,

And dream of taking new ones,

With new faces, and hands that don't give up.

Teach me of a love so deep, so true...

That its the first foundation we lay,

To hold on and get through.

I scoff at the concern you imply you have.

A dear concern of a broken memory.

Your life is not lived in the present.

It is lived with a mirror in front of your face.

A mirror so curved, so molded to your own nose,

that you see nothing, but your beautiful face.

You see not, those that love you, and lay with you.

Those that Burn, Bleed, and Hurt because of you.

But rather you see the world, with only YOU in it.

A world born to give to you, feed you, and provide for you.

I know a man, that wore the skin off his feet, just to follow you.

I tore my heart from my chest, and fed it to you,

On days when your own hunger to consume...grew.

I walked alone, for miles after dark, just to catch you.

I slept without sleep, without dreams, just to think of you.

I conquered, and forgot my own dreams, just to love you.

This was NOT love.  This was robbery, in perfect tight jeans.

This was a moment, where someone fed you from their hand.

And you lay, as Royalty, taking everything I was willing to give.

Nibbling grapes from my fingertips, while I went hungry.

Your creativity for your own empire, never included me.

It never included anyone, but you,, and your dictator mind.

I loved You, I did.  But I had to lose myself, to love you.

I had to forget my own mind and heart, because you had too.

I had to sit, on so many nights, with a shake in my hands.

Unable to write, unable to read, unable to function right.

Feeling a sting in the core of my heart, while you got through.

I didn't wish for any of this, it was washed up on these sandy shores.

We build a fortress for one, and I died when you defended, only you.

The castle was not perfect, it had room for the royalty of only one.

I was pushed out of your life, from the day you met my touch.

I was never your equal, I was your slave, always serving you.

I was an idiot, in love, losing myself, just to love you.

I dreamt one night my mother put out flyer's on the streets.

My son is missing, his name is Adam, and he's lost in love.

If you see him, give him a hug, and guide him back to me.

She posted my photo, but it wasn't recent, cuz she hadn't seen me.

I was a child in this picture, and it was talking to me, begging me.

And in that moment, I realized, I really had lost myself.

I changed my dreams, when I met a girl that I loved.

My mother stood on that street for days, looking for me.

Tears in her eyes, as she begged for her son to come home today.

Adam Pifer, it read, missing from reality, lost in love.

And on this poster, was a finger print of my own,

That told a story about me.  Broken in moments, alive at times.

And one day as I was passing through the streets, I saw that pole.

Where my missing poster was posted, months before.

Tears in my eyes, deprived me of the clarity to read.

I stepped to this poster, and I began to read.

I reached out to touch this poster, and it made me bleed.

I felt the warmth of my family, pressing back on me,

Incredible to feel, as this poster had been posted over a year ago.

But as I tore this poster from its post and held it close,

The warmth from its contents began to race through my heart.

I realized my one true love would NEVER leave me.

And that was the amazing family that had always been there for me.

Tried and True, broken at times by my own lies, my family forgave me.

My family nourished, and fed my stomach, my heart, and my mind.

Waking my mother, in the middle of the night, to share the sound of tears.

Never knowing she got off the phone, and shed tears of her own.

Nights where I couldn't even give her the sound of real words.

And my mother removed the shackles from my heart,

And placed hands around me.

Placed hugs, and the warmth of love around me.

Like a sand castle, washed out by the waves,

My mother was never defeated, and she always rebuilt me.

With a touch of memories, a touch of guidance, and a plethora of love.

And before long, this recipe rendered a child, that still believed in love.

And as these years pass, there is a voice, that will guide me for life.

A voice that never changes, or grows old, because I only hear love.

A voice that guides me, loves me, and would do anything for me.

A voice with a face, a name, and thirty years of loving memories.

A guiding light in a sea of storms, my mother is the fortitude in me.

So many steps in my life have left me tripped up on the ground.

Mud on my face, and discouragement in my heart.

But my mother has never failed to recharge the battery in me.

Maybe love has failed me, with sights set far too high,

But that's only because God has blessed me...

With the most amazing woman in my life.

The fragile heart of my mother, that has truly inspired me.

These are the days...I think about the future...

And I don't mean tomorrow.  I mean a day far from here...

Where certain people in my life are no longer by my side...

When they live in my heart, my mind, and my memories.

This scares me, far more than the end of the Earth.

Far more than the heartbreak of a million women in my life.

I live a difficult life, but maybe its only because I make it that way.

Neglecting the people, that have given the most to me.

My parents, are my statue, in a movie that never stops.

A roller coaster that causes upset stomachs, in you and me.

Tomorrow is never promised, which makes to day a gift.

A moment where we seize opportunities, presented to you and me.

Or we lose this time, never returned to you or me.

Truly inspiring, is the unconditional love of a mother..

Selfish seeds we are, as we grow apart, yet so together.

And on the nights when you text me like tonight,

It is merely textual dialog to me.  A realm of the imagination.

Where you wish to keep a seed planted in me.

These are nothing more than water soluble moments for me.

And the tears are the proof, that they are flooding, but fading memories.

An avalanche of emotion, pushed to the max, as it squeezed from me.

This is not real.  None of this broken heart is real.

She was merely more than a mind maze to me.

I am the pieces, and you the eye...

peeking through the kaleidoscope.

I am the path, and you the shoes.

I am the peasant, and you the Queen...

And I cant help but reply, "as you wish"

To your unreciprocated usage of me.

I guess when I get to the end of these...

I don't know what to say.

Not sure if i should reverse some of the story.

what do i leave the reader with...

A promise of truth in these contents...

Or just another tall tale in me.

I am not looking for games, or trickery.

There is no such thing as a word wizard in me.

I simply rearrange the words and verbs.

Place them in all the wrong places,

like choices in my life.

Let me clear up one thing...

The only truth to any of this...

was the portion on my family.

The rest of it, is people I have made up in my head.

People that never existed to me.

People that were never real to me.

People that were never there for me.

People that never loved like me.

Person. Person. Person. One Person.

That should clear this up.

Barcelona - Please Don't Go (with lyrics)

Beautiful Song....and thats all i have to say on this one...really. I think...