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Guy "Billgoat" De Pauw

Antwerpen, Belgium

eMail: depauw@uia.ac.be
web: http://www.syndon.com
web: http://pcger33.uia.ac.be/guy

Dear Jim,

it's hard to really estimate properly how important you have been in my life. The power of your music has helped me through a lot of heartache and tears and for that I will be eternally grateful.

For your birthday, I wish you back all the happiness that you have given to people all over the world.

Here's a song I've written, that, when we perform it, people think that it's one of your songs. Of course, neither the music or the lyrics are up to your standards, but I thought it would make a nice, yet modest present:

The Last Straw (Dawn in Dumpville)
by Syndon

The never-ending story was clearly bound to cease:
hatred has infested you like some terminal disease.
It seems to me you just don't want to clean up the mess.
The words you tried to kill me with were all too real, I guess...

Running with shiny scissors down the hall of your regret
And choking on the tears that should never have been shed and then
I stopped to wonder how I ever came to trust you in those days
Why didn't I see the darkness that was hidden in your face...

I still remember how it felt, I remember it all too well,
but it don't mean a thing to me : it's so cold down here in hell.
You said I was bad luck,
but I don't give a fuck
about myself no more.

You said you needed freedom and then robbed me of my own,
by perverting all the signs of love that I have shown.
I cried for help, but you blackened out the whiteness of my lie,
And now I am so scared of life, yet too afraid to die.

And when you tell me you're sorry and you say you sympathize,
I can tell you're lying by the image in your eyes.
Please god, will you help me understand
why the hell you can't
bring her back to me

I've changed, arranged my strident ways
And you can't see
the weary maize inside of me.

I've tried to right the wrong I did,
A wholesome phase,
But still the eerie pain prevails...

Now it's real, it's real this pain and it's all too true,
as I come to realist what has gotten in to you.
You never gave a valid reason why you went away,
so now my dreams are all I got, but I wake up every day.

I wake up in this nightmare of sweet tears and cold demise
I'll blast myself to kingdom come, give 'em all a big surprise.
My blood for you again will flow.
Perhaps just then you'll know
what you have thrown away.

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