Torch The Moon; The Whitlams.

Torch the moon, Burn the schools. She wrote in red On her bedroom wall Nothing's pure The paint runs to the floor She laughs too easily and Cries too hard (Cries too hard) Shouldn't drink alone The colours run. How can she forgive? When we know well what we do. Feather scratches On her wrist Dry run with a bread knife For a final twist It wouldn't be for show If it should come to this She laughs too easily and Cries too hard (Cries too hard) Shouldn't drink alone The colours run How can she forgive? When we know well what we do. She was born to feel it all (Born) to see it all And when I feel so lightly It's still burning brightly And she won't look away (ooh, ooh, oh) She laughs too easily and Cries too hard (ooh, ooh, oh) She laughs too easily and Cries too hard Torch the moon Burn the schools. Why's it a man? Making all the rules? Frida Khalo poster on her door She laughs too easily and Cries too hard (Cries too hard) Shouldn't drink alone The colours run How can she forgive? When we know well what we do. And when I feel so lightly It's still burning brightly And she won't look away (She won't look away) She won't look away (Aaah, oooh, aaah) (She won't look away) She won't look away (She won't look away) She won't look away

This song is resonating in me today; growing stronger like a heart beat. I think it might just be how others see me. The description of how she sees others is definitely accurate to how I see people. I do laugh to easily and cry to hard, and the other lyrics with the exception of the Frida Kahlo one is pretty spot on. Tim Freedman has read my diaries I am sure. He has captured the feeling of being me in so many of his songs, and given lyrics to snapshots of my life. I guess that is what a good lyricist does.