Not that you're the one Not to say I'm right Not to say today And not to say a thing tonight But suffice it to say We're leaving things unsaid We sing ourselves to sleep Watching the day lie down instead And we are leaving some things unsaid And we are breathing deeper instead We're both pretty sure Neither one can tell We seem difficult What we got is hard as hell A hundred thousand words Could not quite explain So I walk you to your car And we can talk it out in the rain And we are leaving some things unsaid And we are breathing deeper instead And we are leaving some things unsaid I can sing myself to sleep No more Not that you're the one Not to say I'm right Not to say today And not to say a thing tonight The Fray - Unsaid The story of all my [imaginary] relationships. In my mind it's about a classmate. We had a bit of a connection, but it's shot to hell now and I wonder what could've been. We still talk, but the conversation is pathetic and stale. I love music. I listen to generally anything. Anything, in my case ranges from Fall Out Boy to My Chemical Romance to Evanescence to Duke Ellington to Miles Davis to The Fray to John Mayer to Ray Charles to R. Kelly to Avril Lavigne (not "Girlfriend" Avril as much...old Avril) to Joshua Radin to Jay-Z to Grandmaster Flash to OneRepublic (this amazing indie band that is going to make it big) to Beethoven. Yeah, I mean it. My mp3 player (I call it an mp3 player because 93% of the population calls is a "big iPod"...the actual term for mine is a Creative Zen VIsion: M...it's amazing, and 7x as awesome as your pathetic white iZombie) is like a superhighway. I'm in the band(s, as in marching, concert, jazz, and the orchestra that comes along whenever our drama department does a musical) at my school. I specialize in the alto sax and the baritone sax, and I play the piano/keyboard at home as well. My username: "Banerkblue". the term banerk, coined by a friend of mine that is a combination of the words "band geek" + "dork", and "blue", because it's a nice color. So yeah. It's four-thirty in the morning and I have no idea why I typed all of this. Boredom eclipses us all.