His eyes are in the mirror.
He is inside of me.
I tried to live his legacy to no avail.
Nothing is to be done now.
I feel have failed.

I crawl inside the blue
Of the sky at dusk.
I swim in my head throughout the night.
Until I collapse into a heap,
Knowing I'm not right.

And his eyes are in the mirror,
Ever watching me.
My father's eyes, they always see the world
I wonder what he's seeing
When he saw his little girl turn into this.

All the whims I could have if I only tried
I could have all the paint and paper
Words or notes
Or in-betweens
Sculptures in any language.

That was me once, I had the sky.
I was the dreamer, I had the dream.
I was the music maker, the painter, the poet
The lover the inspired.
I'd sketch my every intention.

Now I only drink the sky instead.
My brain-cells in my head are dying
Every time I do this, trying
Only to numb the pain of life.
Without the numbness I cannot breathe
With the numbness I cannot create.
Without my inspiration what am I anyway?

I look into his eyes.
Disguised in other flesh, his daughter,
I only know the eyes I see are his.

And how like him I am.
Drinking in until the early hours.
I stand alone and sit alone and drink alone
And feel alone and am alone always.
What more can I hope for ever?

Another he, he came to me and told me
I could be his, but yet
I hear he loves another.
How can this be...how can this be?
I will only live.

Shall I wait for things to change?
Another book falls off the shelf.
What is it that I'm doing wrong?
Can I make this change myself?

The poets and the princes, they all elude me.
And while the friends and family exclude me,
I look into the mirror
I see his eyes.
My father's eyes.

Если я чешу в затылке - не беда
В голове моей опилки - да, да, да
Но хотя там и опилки,
Но кричалки и вопилки,
а также шумелки, пыхтелки, хотелки
Сочиняю я неплохо иногда - да.

Хорошо живёт на свете Вин-ни Пух,
От того поёт он эти песни вслух
И не важно чем он занят,
Если он худеть не станет,
А ведь он худеть не станет
...если, конечно, вовремя не подкрепится - да.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1LTTHTYUR8&feature=related

A winter's day in a deep and dark December.
I am alone.
Gazing from my window to the streets below,
On a freshly-fallen, silent shroud of snow.

I am a rock, I am an island.

I've built walls. A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship. Friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.

I am a rock, I am an island.

Don't talk of love. I've heard the word before.
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.

I am a rock, I am an island.

I have my books and my poetry to protect me.
I am shielded in my armor.
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.

I am a rock. I am an island.
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries.

-Simon/Garfunkel