Because if seeing is believing,
then believe that we have lost our eyes
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Conor Oberst
I close my eyes, I see a staircase
Leading upwards into blank space
All of creation makes a sound too soft to hear
Leading upwards into blank space
All of creation makes a sound too soft to hear
M. Ward
We are tireless fighters
But we cannot make it on our own
We are bareback riders
We are lost on our way back home
But we cannot make it on our own
We are bareback riders
We are lost on our way back home
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Joanna Newsom
Never get so attached to a poem you forget truth that lacks lyricism. Never draw so close to the heat that you forget that you must eat, oh...
Regina Spektor
We keep on burying our dead.
We keep on planting their bones in the ground,
but they won't grow
the sun doesn't help
the rain doesn't help
and all we've got is a giant crop
of names and dates.
We keep on planting their bones in the ground,
but they won't grow
the sun doesn't help
the rain doesn't help
and all we've got is a giant crop
of names and dates.
Modest Mouse
Everyone's unhappy
Everyone's ashamed
Well, we all just got caught looking at somebody else's page
Well, nothing ever went quite exactly as we planned
Our ideas held no water but we used them like a damn...
Everyone's ashamed
Well, we all just got caught looking at somebody else's page
Well, nothing ever went quite exactly as we planned
Our ideas held no water but we used them like a damn...
Joanna Newsom
All my bones, they are gone, gone, gone.
Take my bones, I don't need none.
Cold, cold cupboard, lord, nothing to chew on!
Suck all day on a cherry stone.
Dig a little hole not three inches round-
Spit your pit in the hole in the ground.
Weep upon the spot for the starving of me!
Till up grows a fine young cherry tree.
When the bow breaks, what'll you make for me?
A little willow cabin to rest on your knee.
What'll I do with a trinket such as this?
Think of your woman, who's gone to the west.
But I'm starving and freezing in my measly old bed!
Then I'll crawl across the salt flats, to stroke your sweet head.
Come across the desert with no shoes on!
I love you truly,
or I love no-one.
Take my bones, I don't need none.
Cold, cold cupboard, lord, nothing to chew on!
Suck all day on a cherry stone.
Dig a little hole not three inches round-
Spit your pit in the hole in the ground.
Weep upon the spot for the starving of me!
Till up grows a fine young cherry tree.
When the bow breaks, what'll you make for me?
A little willow cabin to rest on your knee.
What'll I do with a trinket such as this?
Think of your woman, who's gone to the west.
But I'm starving and freezing in my measly old bed!
Then I'll crawl across the salt flats, to stroke your sweet head.
Come across the desert with no shoes on!
I love you truly,
or I love no-one.
Ani Difranco
...I wonder if everything I do, I do instead of something I want to do more. The question fills my head. I know there's no grand plan here this is just the way it goes and when everything else seems unclear I guess at least I know I do it for the joy it brings...
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