Meditation on Friendship
Take the "r" out of "friend" and what're you left with?
I've often thought the beauty of friendship was there were no limits, but I am, apparently, wrong. Certain people seem to feel their comfort zone is more important than consideration, which is something that I -- as a person who's risked his life for certain people -- can barely conceive. Maybe I'm just so unhinged that I'm willing to step up to fight for people who've admitted they'd let me stand on my own rather than "deal with" me just so I can suffer the delusion of loyalty.
Maybe forgiveness is overrated.
So I guess it's true, I must be fucking crazy to trust these people who know what I'm capable of, but are themselves capable of turning their back on me even though I've demonstrated that loyalty has no boundaries -- especially in the realms of "personal comfort."
Trust, apparently, can never be assured, and loyalty is, apparently, relative.
Mulder was right.
--
FRIENDS
Words and music by Andy Summers
I likes to eat my friends, and make no bones about it.
I likes to eat my friends, I couldn't do without it.
Ain't a man or poet, friend, I know just how you'll taste.
Your limbs go sliding down my throat and never go to waste.
Your death, of course, will sadden me, until I grok your essence.
I know your life was not in vain when digestion is commencing.
Consider this a celebration, and the deepest pact of friends,
And I hope that you will dine on me when I come to an end.
(Friends . . . .)
Even friends may come to you with a new found revelation,
But think of it as life renewed and not their termination.
"To know you is to eat you" should be the code of lovers.
Death brings the highest act of love preserved for one another.
(Friends . . . .)
People say that what you are is only what you eat,
And my friends become a part of me . . . it's then that life's complete.
To love you is to eat you, the act of love supreme . . .
Each one of us inside himself can appetise the dream.
(Friends . . . .)
I've often thought the beauty of friendship was there were no limits, but I am, apparently, wrong. Certain people seem to feel their comfort zone is more important than consideration, which is something that I -- as a person who's risked his life for certain people -- can barely conceive. Maybe I'm just so unhinged that I'm willing to step up to fight for people who've admitted they'd let me stand on my own rather than "deal with" me just so I can suffer the delusion of loyalty.
Maybe forgiveness is overrated.
So I guess it's true, I must be fucking crazy to trust these people who know what I'm capable of, but are themselves capable of turning their back on me even though I've demonstrated that loyalty has no boundaries -- especially in the realms of "personal comfort."
Trust, apparently, can never be assured, and loyalty is, apparently, relative.
Mulder was right.
--
FRIENDS
Words and music by Andy Summers
I likes to eat my friends, and make no bones about it.
I likes to eat my friends, I couldn't do without it.
Ain't a man or poet, friend, I know just how you'll taste.
Your limbs go sliding down my throat and never go to waste.
Your death, of course, will sadden me, until I grok your essence.
I know your life was not in vain when digestion is commencing.
Consider this a celebration, and the deepest pact of friends,
And I hope that you will dine on me when I come to an end.
(Friends . . . .)
Even friends may come to you with a new found revelation,
But think of it as life renewed and not their termination.
"To know you is to eat you" should be the code of lovers.
Death brings the highest act of love preserved for one another.
(Friends . . . .)
People say that what you are is only what you eat,
And my friends become a part of me . . . it's then that life's complete.
To love you is to eat you, the act of love supreme . . .
Each one of us inside himself can appetise the dream.
(Friends . . . .)
