When you wake up
Turn the radio on
And you'll hear this simple song

That I made up
That I made up for you

When you're driving
Turn the radio up
Cause I can't sing loud enough
Hard these days
To get my message through

If time is all I have
I'll waste it all on you

Each day I'll turn it back
It's what the broken-hearted do
I'm tired of talking to an empty space
Of silences keeping me awake

When you marry
And you look around
I'll be somewhere in that crowd
Torn up, that it isn't me

When you're older
The memories fade
But I know I'll still feel the same
For as long as I live

But if time is all I have
I'll waste it all on you

Each day I'll turn it back
It's what the broken-hearted do
I'm tired of talking to an empty space
Of silences keeping me awake

Won't you say my name, one time
Please just say my name

But if time is all I have
I'll waste it all on you
Each day I'll turn it back
It's what the broken-hearted do
I'm tired of talking to an empty space
Of silences keeping me awake

If time is all I have
I'll waste it all on you

Each day I'll turn it back
It's what the broken-hearted do
I'm tired of talking to an empty space
Of silences keeping me awake

Won't you say my name
When the song is over

Read more: James Blunt - If Time Is All I Have Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Food for thought

sea of plastic people

This world all around me, it's made up of plastic. Ugly plastic. Hard, yet brittle. Sharp edges all around. They cut easily and go deep. People around me are unreal. They've got tags on them saying 'friends', 'strangers', 'acquaintances'... 'family'. But they never move. They're still characters. Stuck in motion. They do nothing. I stand alone in my sea of plastic people. Looking at faces for signs of life. Peering into cold lifeless eyes to see a flicker or recognition. Why is there no warmth there? why are their hands so cold. Why is there no love in the embraces that i try to steal in my dark times. Where are all the real people? Where did their hearts go? Am i dreaming or is this reality? Why do i feel like no one is listening when i talk out loud. Why don't they respond when i hit them? Why don't they wipe away the trickle of tears from my cheeks. Why don't they tell me it will be okay when i'm huddled in the corner curled up like a pathetic ball. They dont even flinch when i scream at them. They're dead towards me. I stand alone in a hoarde of lifeless people.

August rain

Lost in his thoughts, he was oblivious to his surroundings. He'd been sitting in the same spot for hours without moving. It was dark and silent. The sky kept lighting up and the howling wind told him that a thunderstorm was on its way. Right now he didn't care. Maybe he'd get struck by lightening and his miseries would end. He rested against the tree trunk. He lit up another cigarette as the first drops of rain pelted down. Soon it was raining hard. His clothes were soaked but he wasn't aware of anything. He was smoking constantly. His thoughts were fixated on her. He was fuming. He wanted to strangle her neck and suck out the life from her. How could a girl like her affect him so much. He wanted to kill the selfish bitch. She only thought about herself. He went out of his way to submit to each whim of hers, but she never appreciated him. He was like a puppet in those sinister hands of hers. The rain came down with a fervour and his rage increased with each passing minute. He was her puppet. He couldn't break free. He hated the feelings he felt for her. He hated the way she was making him grovel. He hate his life. He just wanted the rain to wash away his pain.

redemption

How can you think of redemption when you stand at cross roads and make a conscious decision to tread down a path you know will destroy your life. The mind beguiles you into doing things you honestly never thought yourself capable of. Inertia takes over,and for some reason the brain feels disconnected from the body.
we are creatures of habit, we can get used to anything. without even realising it we give into certain actions that change our lives forever. Ego, and self righteousness pulls us into a blame game because we cannot bear to think that maybe our own core is defective. So we pacify our hearts and give our soul hopes of redemption. With dreams of a utopic future, where 'one day everything will be alright', we continue down our forsaken paths, damning ourselves with every breath we take...
there is no redemption...

Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.