The Nicest Thing

All I know is that you're so nice,
You're the nicest thing I've seen.
I wish that we could give it a go,
See if we could be something.

I wish I was your favorite girl,
I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world.
I wish my smile was your favorite kind of smile
I wish the way that I dressed was your favourite kind of style.

I wish you couldn't figure me out,
But you always wanted know what I was about.
I wish you'd hold my hand when I was upset,
I wish you'd never forget the look on my face when we first met.

I wish you had a favorite beauty spot that you loved secretly,
'Cos it was on a hidden bit that nobody else could see.
Basically, I wish that you loved me,
I wish that you needed me,
I wish that you knew when I said two sugars, actually I meant three.

I wish that without me your heart would break,
I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake.
I wish that without me you couldn't eat,
I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep.

Look all I know is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen.
And I wish that we could see if we could be something.
Yea I wish that we could see if we could be something.

Los Campesinos! - We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed

Lyrics:

By the light of the LED display of the VCR recorder
You kiss my neck, I whisper in your ear:
"This is my downfall"
As you squint and you grimace
We both know your heart's not in it

In the glow of a thousand fireflies
In a travelodge en-suite
They think the future's bright as halogen
We know it's pretty bleak
And I'm trying to be sexy
Biting at the air that falls in front of me.

The telegrams are more and more less detailed by the day
And all the characters are strangers
And the pubs have different names
I tell a joke, I'd like to meet them
But they'll loathe me and I'd hate them back

Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Fondness makes the absence longer
Length loses my interest
I'm a realist, I'm insatiable
So, ten days until I fly
But that was before your reply

You said, "He got his teeth fixed"
I'm gonna break them
I've got a heart on fire
You said, "He's got his sights set"
I'm getting to ya
I've got fists on fire

And you feel terrified at the thought of being left behind
Of losing everybody, the necessity of dying
Oh, we kid ourselves, there's future in the fucking
But there is no fucking future
I'm just practising my accents,
Picking at old sutures

I taught myself the only way to vaguely get along in love
Is to like the other slightly less than you get in return
I keep feeling like I'm being under-cut

Charlotte says it's more constructive than the one in Canada
When you got drunk, ate loads of crisps
And threw up by a football pitch
I know it is, and really that's what worries me
I feel like I should hurt

You said, "He's got his teeth fixed"
I'm gonna break them
I've got a heart on fire
He said he's got his sights set
I'm getting to ya
I've got fists on fire

I cannot emphasise enough that my body is a
Badly designed, poorly put together vessel
Harbouring these diminishing, so-called vital organs
Hope my heart goes first, I HOPE MY HEART GOES FIRST!

Moment

As a child, there was nothing more comforting to me than waking up to the smell of sulfur and cigarettes at 3 am. It meant I was safe and sound in my mother's bed. I can remember the scent pulling me out of whatever dream state I was in to reveal a cluttered room aglow from the green alarm clock. In the subtle light, I could make out the stacks of clothing, papers and books that had been there for years. The pile of "who knows what" that lay on the floor next to me that our jack Russell mix Mrs. Beasley had made a nest out of. Her dresser was filled with old jewelry, pictures, perfumes and lotions that were always way past the date of use, all of which my mother would save "just in case." As I lay with my back to her,I would watch the shadows of her body dance along the wall. She struck a match, inhaled deep and a bright glow would illuminate the room with each drag. I would never let her know I was awake; ever. It's not as if she would have been upset, or even minded; but there was something so beautiful in that moment, predictable, safe; that I could not allow my need to be heard overshadow the need to just be...well... Content. She would take a couple more pulls; each one filled the room with a bright orange glow if only for a moment and I watched as the smoke distorted the shadow puppets of her movement on the wall. I would hear the sizzle of the butt against the ashtray and the moment would be over. She would clear her throat, snuggle back into the covers and fall fast asleep. I would lay there for what seemed like an eternity wondering if this is how she thought it would be. Is this is at all who she saw herself as? These were the only times in my life when I can truly say that I loved her, understood her, and wished for her beyond anything else in my life... and the saddest part...is that she never even knew these moments existed for me. I guess that's the funny thing about ones reality.. it's all relative.