The vamp's got the strength, the stick figure Barbie doll is the heart, and
English has the knowledge. Where do I fit in?
I'm pretty strong, definitely not emotional and a high school dropout.
They're so close knit. Been through so much together that I don't fit into their little group so well. You could call them a trinity. Like when I was little and used to go to mass, there was that group of girls, so close that the preacher used to call them 'the trinity' when they interrupted his sermon with their chattering. 'The Trinity of the Sister, the Sinner and the Slut' we'd call them.
When I used to go to church. I'd go with my grandma and sister, and we'd sit in the third pew. We'd have a great view of the Preacher Smith, and he was way into those fiery hell speeches. Yeah, Smith. Us kids had loads of fun just off his name. And he'd stand there and yell for an hour or so, till the screams turned into background noise. Alonna and I'd sit there and make faces at each other till Gram noticed and pinched our cheeks to make us stop.
There'd be this big mural on the wall, with the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost on it. It was real big, and the figures had these black eyes that stared at you from wherever you were in the church. Scared the hell out of me, I always saw the eyes staring at me. They were things to be respected with fear; they were always there for each other and always together. They were friends to each other only, not us; we were the lower people who had to get up and say our hymns to the blessed Trinity, facing that wall. And that was God for me. Three dudes painted on a wall and we sang to them.
Maybe I just wasn't paying attention well enough, but that was my superior being. Never saw the God in the world, it was such a bad world. Still is.
That was when I used to go to church. The last time I stepped in one of those places was when one of my gang died, and they held a funeral in this little wreck of a church downtown. Cuz it ain't about religion anymore, just survival. I end up in churches for funerals, not happy times, and there aren't too many of those left.
So now we got these sad times, with sad folks, like me.
I would be less sad if I knew who to be sad with.
I don't fit in with my gang anymore. After Alonna, nothing was right there. Life was too simplistic. It can't just all be about killing vamps, there's more. There's gotta be. I think about this stuff too much, and my buds think it's weird, and they're freaked out by it a little. I am too, I was never like this before.
When she died, I met Angel. He opened up these ideas. I mean, he's a vamp who's doing some serious good out there! Not normal; messed up my normal life. And I can't stick with my gang anymore, they don't want me with my new-fangled ideas and stuff. Angel's gang looks pretty good, but it doesn't seem like they want me either.
Why would they want me? They already have everything they need: the fighting, the love and the smarts. I used to have that with my homies, but not anymore. They don't like it at all, me associating with a dead white dude, even if he is souled. I'm dealing with the white people now, how low can I sink?
I've sunk. Fine. But I like them. They're great guys, I want to be with them. And even if all situations were good for me, I still wouldn't be able to really join them. They're a family of three, brothers and sister and they don't have enough room for the fourth brother.
Cordelia keeps pictures around her desk, all showing Angel and Wes and herself. And there's one of that dead dude, Doyle. How many times have I stood there and stared at those pictures? They fight demons and death everyday, but they still look happy in those pics. They look like they actually are, Cordy jumping on Wes' back and Angel standing there with a watergun or a close up of Angel looking surprised.
Angel's an... interesting dude. All that repentance and stuff really hangs around him and makes him all broody. But he's the good guy on the streets, he makes a difference. Cordelia's cares about them, and that vision she had about me convinced me that she cared at least a little about me too. And Wesley the book man is coming along nicely, not so geeky anymore. A nice guy. He loved the Matrix too.
I respect them, but they deep down I feel like they're acting like they're sorta superior, and that makes them unapproachable. And I love my gang, don't get me wrong. They're family. But sometimes someone feels like they gotta get a new family, and I don't wanna go, but I think I do. I'm in the middle of two worlds now, and it's so damn hard. I'm stuck in the middle and I can't move. I can't stay with my gang and I can't join Angel and his folks. And I don't even know if I should go.
But if I did, maybe I would head to Angel's hotel. I'm different, and so are they. We could be good together.
They are so devoted to each other, unbreakable. They should always be a trinity. It's really nice.
But sometime, maybe, it could be the three of them, plus one. ~ Finito
I'm pretty strong, definitely not emotional and a high school dropout.
They're so close knit. Been through so much together that I don't fit into their little group so well. You could call them a trinity. Like when I was little and used to go to mass, there was that group of girls, so close that the preacher used to call them 'the trinity' when they interrupted his sermon with their chattering. 'The Trinity of the Sister, the Sinner and the Slut' we'd call them.
When I used to go to church. I'd go with my grandma and sister, and we'd sit in the third pew. We'd have a great view of the Preacher Smith, and he was way into those fiery hell speeches. Yeah, Smith. Us kids had loads of fun just off his name. And he'd stand there and yell for an hour or so, till the screams turned into background noise. Alonna and I'd sit there and make faces at each other till Gram noticed and pinched our cheeks to make us stop.
There'd be this big mural on the wall, with the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost on it. It was real big, and the figures had these black eyes that stared at you from wherever you were in the church. Scared the hell out of me, I always saw the eyes staring at me. They were things to be respected with fear; they were always there for each other and always together. They were friends to each other only, not us; we were the lower people who had to get up and say our hymns to the blessed Trinity, facing that wall. And that was God for me. Three dudes painted on a wall and we sang to them.
Maybe I just wasn't paying attention well enough, but that was my superior being. Never saw the God in the world, it was such a bad world. Still is.
That was when I used to go to church. The last time I stepped in one of those places was when one of my gang died, and they held a funeral in this little wreck of a church downtown. Cuz it ain't about religion anymore, just survival. I end up in churches for funerals, not happy times, and there aren't too many of those left.
So now we got these sad times, with sad folks, like me.
I would be less sad if I knew who to be sad with.
I don't fit in with my gang anymore. After Alonna, nothing was right there. Life was too simplistic. It can't just all be about killing vamps, there's more. There's gotta be. I think about this stuff too much, and my buds think it's weird, and they're freaked out by it a little. I am too, I was never like this before.
When she died, I met Angel. He opened up these ideas. I mean, he's a vamp who's doing some serious good out there! Not normal; messed up my normal life. And I can't stick with my gang anymore, they don't want me with my new-fangled ideas and stuff. Angel's gang looks pretty good, but it doesn't seem like they want me either.
Why would they want me? They already have everything they need: the fighting, the love and the smarts. I used to have that with my homies, but not anymore. They don't like it at all, me associating with a dead white dude, even if he is souled. I'm dealing with the white people now, how low can I sink?
I've sunk. Fine. But I like them. They're great guys, I want to be with them. And even if all situations were good for me, I still wouldn't be able to really join them. They're a family of three, brothers and sister and they don't have enough room for the fourth brother.
Cordelia keeps pictures around her desk, all showing Angel and Wes and herself. And there's one of that dead dude, Doyle. How many times have I stood there and stared at those pictures? They fight demons and death everyday, but they still look happy in those pics. They look like they actually are, Cordy jumping on Wes' back and Angel standing there with a watergun or a close up of Angel looking surprised.
Angel's an... interesting dude. All that repentance and stuff really hangs around him and makes him all broody. But he's the good guy on the streets, he makes a difference. Cordelia's cares about them, and that vision she had about me convinced me that she cared at least a little about me too. And Wesley the book man is coming along nicely, not so geeky anymore. A nice guy. He loved the Matrix too.
I respect them, but they deep down I feel like they're acting like they're sorta superior, and that makes them unapproachable. And I love my gang, don't get me wrong. They're family. But sometimes someone feels like they gotta get a new family, and I don't wanna go, but I think I do. I'm in the middle of two worlds now, and it's so damn hard. I'm stuck in the middle and I can't move. I can't stay with my gang and I can't join Angel and his folks. And I don't even know if I should go.
But if I did, maybe I would head to Angel's hotel. I'm different, and so are they. We could be good together.
They are so devoted to each other, unbreakable. They should always be a trinity. It's really nice.
But sometime, maybe, it could be the three of them, plus one. ~ Finito