I've been blessed with praise, but the price that I pay-- Nobody knows. Nobody sees. Nobody cares. You walked me home at the end of the day. But you didn't stay. Where you had to go, you needed to be, and I wasn't there.
How could possibly think I'd wait. While you decided your fate.
Keep all your words that sounded like home I'll cry myself to sleep alone Nobody needs to know Take all this hurt out of my home I'd rather die here than let it all show Nobody needs to know
I showed you all, the strong and the weak-- the pieces of me were yours to keep. And when time came to leap, I watched you leave. I couldn't set you free, couldn't let you fly. You were never mine. And when you left, I broke down and wept, along on my knees. I prayed that you'd never come back again. God give me a chance to mend.
Keep all your words that sounded like home I'll cry myself to sleep alone Nobody needs to know Take all this hurt out of my home I'd rather die here than let it all show Nobody needs to know
I let you in. Show you my cards... You broke my heart.
- Kristine Sa
Dear readers, Above are the lyrics to "Nobody" which I wrote a few months ago. These lyrics were originally part of a journey entry. It means to the world to me to be able to release a song without an agenda. I wrote this in one night. Passed it over to my friend, musician Tony T. Nguyen for his take on the arrangement. When the music came back to me, this demo version was recorded and mixed in one night. I had thought about going back and tweaking the vocals, the mix, etc. But I didn't. This little video was filmed in a one day on location in Malibu, CA. And was edited in one memorizing, lonely night. I meant to do the whole thing only to be shared online for free with you. And it feels wonderful to be able to do so. I thank you for being connected. I thank God for the creative outlets. And I thank the following people for lending a helping hand in this little song and video: chi Tam Doan, anh Tien Dung, Tony T. Nguyen, Johnny "JP" Phan, anh Matt Dung Nguyen, & Andy La. Last but not least, may I dedicate this song to anyone who's ever felt alone, in sharing this song with you, I am less lonely and I thank you for that.
If you and I are listening to the same song at the same time, does that connect us in some way? Ever catch yourself staring out at the street and wonder if someone on the other side of the street is gazing at the same thing? What if they are watching you, watching these cars zipping by? Does that connect you? Wish I understood how this whole thing works. Sometimes I see far too much and I just don't know what to do with it all. I see too many patterns. Too many connectors. I see too much and I'm afraid it'll just drive me mad one day.
You can find me where the snows falls If you're looking at all That's where I'll be Where the winds will wrap me In their cold hands Where I will stand Perfectly still Until...
I took this road with some very specific intentions. Somewhere along the way I got to my destination and hadn't even noticed. Got caught up in the drive. Had the windows down, listened to music too loudly... Whatever the cause, here I am, driving in circles and I finally realized-- This road will not lead me anywhere new. I've exhausted this drive. It took me a few gloomy mornings and a few more sleepless nights but it very recently became crystal clear. I need a break. I need to pull over, refuel, and head back out. Onto another road. It's time.
At the end of this road I see so many goodbyes unknown to the receiver. I see promises of reuniting that silently hold no merit. I see the fog of the unknown. I am equally scared and excited. And Patty Griffin sings, "There's no mercy in the live wire. No rest at all in freedom. Of the choices we are given-- there's no choice at all. The proof is in the fire you touch before it moves away. But you must always know how long to stay. And when to go." Over and over when there are goodbyes, I turn to this song. I suppose that's exactly what awaits me at the end of this road: The prettiest departure song I've ever heard.
