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So Things Were Andrew [not allowed to post last names on BZ] The mare bent her neck down gracefully and snatched a tuft of verdant grass with her broad, flat teeth. Fine drops of dew misted her lips as she pulled the grass from the dirt and into her mouth, lifting her head again as she begin to chew. It was a cool, summer morning and the sun was just cresting over the trees that framed the pasture, edging its way into the slate sky and heralding a mild warmth cast upon the mare’s palomino back as she continued to graze. The mare, whose name was Lucy – Lady Lucy to be precise, but rare was the occurrence when the shorthand was not preferred – was twenty-one, quite old for a horse. For many years, as long as she had lived at this stable, she served as a lesson horse, the gentlest mare in the field. Lucy was always willing to have a neophyte climb on her back and learn the graceful joy of riding a horse, and she never refused the requisite treats that the excited little children were always happy to give her afterwards. Apples, carrots, peppermints, and store-bought grain confections: all these and more were awarded to Lucy for her temperate temperament. Indeed, the mare was known as the resident “chow hound” of the barn just as much as she was known to be the sweetest of the horses, everyone’s first choice on his or her respective lesson day. So things were, and had been for more than a decade, but Lucy was getting older now, and her strength waned as older age and arthritis began to descend upon her golden frame. Her spirits were never lessened – nor was her appetite – and her ears would still prick up from beneath her messy, cream-colored mane whenever a human stepped up to the gate at her field, or the door to her stall. But her joints were too tender for regular work now – and over the past ten months, she had slowly been phased out of lessons, and gradually relegated to field board. It was for the horse, naturally. Lucy certainly entertained no thoughts of being “cast aside” as she stood grazing normally in the morning. She certainly did not consider herself a drain of any resources, or someone whose usefulness had expired. She merely enjoyed the verdant grass at her feet as the sun inched higher and the day grew warmer. As she stood grazing placidly, a low rumbling noise sounded from beyond the horizon, somewhat heavier than the usual car motor sound. Lucy looked up with her right eye. A bright red truck was ascending the road to the stable, with a large, silver horse trailer in tow. ***** The teenager’s back was bent ungracefully as she tipped the carton of milk and poured a portion of its contents onto her Cheerios, which she had adorned also with a scoop of sugar. Small droplets of milk splattered on her hands as she messily poured, and then brought a spoonful to her mouth absentmindedly, leaving the carton on the table next to her rather than bothering to put it back in the fridge. She didn’t notice the sun rising majestically in the sky, except when its glare interfered with reading the newspaper comics. The teenager, whose name was Pippa – Philippa Floros to be precise, but rare was the occurrence when the shorthand was not preferred – was seventeen, a recent high school graduate. She worked currently at the local grocery, a job she was quite thrilled would cease at the summer’s conclusion, when she flitted off to the state university, though she was less-than-thrilled at the impending lack of spending money that would beget. But Pippa did not dwell too much on that. She knew the grocery would hire her back in the winter break, and again the following summer, as these things generally go. And if they didn’t, she would find somewhere else for part-time minimum wage. It worked through high school and it would work through college – things were no different. There was no perceptible change from one day to the next, no events that changed the placidity of a teen-aged life. Was she really a different person the day after graduation than she had been the day before? No, of course not. Pippa was too happy-go-lucky to waste time on ruminations of such gravity, regardless. She knew the things that she liked, which were friends, horses, and dolmades, and she paid plenty of attention to all three, which were immediate, physical, and extant. So things were, and had been for many years. Pippa certainly entertained no thoughts on how symbolic this transitional juncture in her life was as she sat eating sweetened cereal normally in the morning. She did not consider herself on the cusp of great changes and transformative experiences, nor did she consider how near she was to two decades, something that not long ago had seemed impossibly far away. Pippa merely thought about the here and now, her present state of affairs, as the sun’s glare made the comics increasingly illegible. The antics of Garfield were more distracting than recognizing the reality of mortality. Pippa had never thought of what to do with her life, because she never had really considered its cosmic brevity. She glanced at the clock above the stove. It was time to leave for her shift, same as every other morning shift she would undertake indefinitely. She replaced the milk in the fridge and exited the house, her red sedan making a low rumbling noise as she descended the driveway. ***** Lucy did not understand why she was being loaded on the trailer. She hadn’t been brought to a show in well over a year; it was far too much excitement and stress for the old, arthritic mare. But Lucy remembered the procedure, and didn’t put up a fuss as she was led up the ramp and into the big metal box, enticed by a full net of hay. The leadrope latched to her halter was tied to a hook in the trailer’s wall, and the ramp was closed and latched behind her. Lucy pulled hay from the net and chewed as voices spoke outside the trailer. She didn’t understand the English words, naturally, nor did she recognize the intonation of wistful sadness when her owner said to the new faces “Take good care of her. She can’t do a lot of work but she’s a real sweetheart.” Lucy didn’t understand when her owner, who was no longer her owner now, confessed “It breaks my heart to let her go, but I’d rather she be happy with a new family than stay at a lesson barn where she can’t work anymore, and be unhappy.” Lucy didn’t know she was unhappy. ***** Pippa was unhappy to be having this conversation for the third time this year. “So you’re all graduated now!” Agnes said cheerfully as the two of them opened the store for the morning and prepared the registers for customers. Agnes was the assistant manager of the grocery, an elderly, overweight lady with a silver pompadour and a kind, if over-excited, disposition. Pippa replied that yes, she was indeed a high school graduate. “How exciting! You’re going to college?” Yes, Pippa was going to college. “What are you going to major in? What do you want to do with your life?” No, Pippa hadn’t thought about what to major it. No, Pippa didn’t know what she wanted to do once she was out of college. Just like when the question was asked in April, and February. It was not so much that Pippa resented the inquiry itself, despite its repetition: it was merely that she had nothing of substance to say on the matter. So Pippa responded as little as possible, and ignored as much of the chatter that happened at the workplace as she could. She peddled the bounty of food to the denizens of America, giving luscious chocolate to the obsese and overpriced whole-grains to the skinny, making no judgment of any party, merely taking their money. People bought bread and milk and eggs, potatoes and chives and butter, carrots and apples and peppermints. Pippa was the gatekeeper of the cornucopia. It was terribly bland work. ***** Weeks passed. Months passed. The new humans had been friendly and caring at first. Upon arriving at her new home, Lucy was greeted by an exuberant young girl bouncing up and down with happiness. A horse! Lucy was reminded of the young children who learned to ride with her help, the many faces that had been so happy for this adventure. They all grew older, and went elsewhere, over time. The new owners led Lucy to the field where she was to be kept, and for some weeks, she was ridden by the small girl, fed regularly, and given ample treats at every opportunity. While she missed her companions from the field, Lucy was content. Slowly at first, however, something changed. Lucy couldn’t understand the fickleness of a young child, or the wastefulness of the parents who spoiled her. She could only notice that she started to feel hungry, that the feeding became less and less regular, before stopping entirely. She could only feel the pain in her feet as they grew out, never trimmed, and never touched by a farrier. The edges of her hooves cracked and curled upwards and it hurt the mare just to walk. Lucy didn’t understand the meaning of the English word “pounds,” or that she lost four-hundred of them. She only knew she was hungry, and alone. Lucy lay down one day in exhaustion, and found that she couldn’t stand back up. ***** Pippa’s phone rang. It was a Saturday evening, and she didn’t have work this day. She was sitting on her bed with her laptop at her feet and a jar of olives in her hand as a snack. She grabbed the phone and checked the screen to see who was calling. Her heart sank. It was Maria, and that meant bad news. She set down the jar and answered. “Hello?” “Pippa? It’s me, Maria.” Pippa was aware. “We got a call from Animal Control. You know what that means.” “Tomorrow morning?” “Can you be at the shelter by six?” “Yeah.” “Thank you so much, Pippa.” Pippa loved horses more than any other animal. She’d taken lessons for many years, starting when she was an excited little girl ready for adventure. In recent years, they’d grown too expensive to afford, but Pippa volunteered at a local equine rescue shelter run by Maria. Twice a week she drove to the next county to groom and exercise the horses, and she used much of her grocery-store salary to buy feed and other requisites to donate to the shelter. When Maria called, though, it was for more dire volunteer work. It meant the shelter would be acquiring a new resident – which meant that another local animal was being abused. It broke Pippa’s heart how people treated these gentle creatures. The first horse she’d helped rescue was simply found wandering on the shoulder of a highway, abandoned by its owners. Their most recent rescue, Lexi, had been stuck in a stall made of wooden frames covered in plastic sheeting, with a chain-link gate, and never let out. When Maria and Pippa had arrived, after a tip from a neighbor, the horse was knee-deep in weeks’ worth of its own excrement and so emaciated she looked like loose skin draped over a skeleton. But the shelter had great success in the two years Pippa had been volunteering. Each horse they’d rescued with the assistance of Animal Control had made a great recovery through their care and attention. Though she was aware that the recovery was not a foregone conclusion, and was as familiar with the tender work involved in ensuring it as she was with what the consequences otherwise would be, they’d had nothing hut hard-won victory over cruelty thus far. Pippa arrived at the shelter early the next morning and joined Maria, Dr. O’Connell the veterinarian, and two officers from the Animal Control division, who had received a report from someone on the west end of the county that their neighbors were keeping a horse who looked weak and starved. The owners put up a fuss when the five arrived. They always did. They claimed that Maria and the officers had “no right” to take their property, that the horse was merely “skinny,” and so on. And they were wrong, and their resistance was useless. Maria and Pippa carefully helped the palomino to her feet. She was terribly emaciated, he bones and joints jutting out from under her skin, creaking as she moved. Her stomach was so far receded that it looked almost like a straight line at a forty-five-degree angle from her front legs to her back backs. When the vet placed a hand on the mare’s side, his fingers fell into the recesses between the raised ribs. With effort, and slowly, the three led the horse into their trailer. Pippa ran a finger softly through her cream-colored mane. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. They brought the horse named Lucy to the shelter, and brought her into one of the spacious new stalls Pippa has helped to build two summers prior. They brought food and water, and brushed her coat for the first time in months. Lucy saw all this through a haze. Her vision was somewhat blurred, somewhat darkened – she didn’t understand what had happened, or how she got here, but she knew this place was different. The food almost burned in her throat, the first she’d had in weeks, but she ate it with as much relish as she could muster, and as much force as her meager strength could allow. When the youngest of the three humans brought her a peppermint, Lucy remembered something happy, from a previous time. She was cared for, here, and someone was always at her side. So it was for several days. But she was still so weak, and so tired, so tired she had to lie down again. “I don’t think she’s going to make it,” Dr. O’Connell confessed. Pippa’s eyes widened. Maria looked to the ground and nodded sadly. “Just like Rocky, four years ago. We just got to her too late.” “Keep trying to rehabilitate her. See how she is by the end of the week. But if she’s not getting any better; if she’s still in this much pain…” The vet’s sentence trailed off. Maria nodded again. Pippa didn’t speak or make a scene, but he shock was palpable. She had always understood this risk, knew that it had happened before, but it still was unbelievable, as finality and a curtailed future she’d never faced firsthand before. Pippa knelt down by the beautiful, dying horse that lay there quietly and desperately in the hay. She knelt there again some days later, alongside Maria, as Dr. O’Connell brough a syringe of barbiturates from his truck. Pippa didn’t understand why it had come to this, or why this majestic creature had been so mistreated and abused, or how anyone’s heart could be so black as to have such a casual disregard for life. But what she did understand at that moment the veterinarian slid the needle into Lady Lucy’s neck was the nature of death, and the finality of mortality, and the preciousness of life itself. The mare understood, too. Though her vision was dim now, and growing dimmer, she saw the three sad faces above her and in one particular she saw a young girl, about to embark on adventure, a reminder of a happy life she had led, once before. But it was over now.
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What am I even doing posting this what am I even talking about what, how is this even pertinent anyway huh? Although I do have a secret desire, to record this song, but release two versions: one, where I sing it as-is, and the second, with a woman singing it, and changing it to 'Tell Him About It.' Because it'd be doing my part to help smash the gender binary, and exorcise that ridiculous notion that 'the man has to make the first move; women can't go asking men out on dates or be the one to tell the dude she has romantic feelings for him.' Because that's the stupidest thing. Women can be the instigator just as much as men can and our dumb society should stop saying otherwise. Also, the message of the song is totally relevant, kiddos! You really should tell someone if you dig her/him. Hiding things makes messes! Although I'm kind of a hypocrite, because I've been bad about this and still am and probably will continue to be so, in the future! I am a bad role model and a horrible human being! "Tell Her About It" from the album An Innocent Man Words and music by Billy Joel Whoo-hoo-ooo! Whoo-hoo! Listen boy, don't want to see you let a good thing slip away You know I don't like watching anybody make the same mistakes I made She's a real nice girl, and she's always there for you But a nice girl wouldn't tell you what you should do Oh, Listen boy, I'm sure that you think you got it all under control You don't want somebody telling you the way to stay in someone's soul You're a big boy now, and you'll never let her go But that's just the kind of thing she ought to know! Tell her about it! Tell her everything you feel! Give her every reason To accept that you're for real Tell her about it - Tell her all your crazy dreams! Let her know you need her; Let her know how much she means! Listen boy, it's not automatically a certain guarantee To insure yourself, you've got to provide communication constantly When you love someone, you're always insecure And there's only one good way to reassure Tell her about it! Let her know how much you care When she can't be with you, Tell her you wish you were there Tell her about it - Every day before you leave! Pay her some attention; Give her something to believe 'Cause now and then, she'll get to worrying Just because you haven't spoken for so long And though you may not have done anything Will that be a consolation when she's gone? Listen boy, it's good information from a man who's made mistakes Just a word or two that she gets from you could be the difference that it makes! She's a trusting soul - she's put her trust in you But a girl like that won't tell you what you should do Tell her about it - Tell her everything you feel! Give her every reason To accept that you're for real Tell her about it Tell her all your crazy dreams Let her know you need her Let her know how much she means Tell her about it Tell her how you feel right now Just tell her about it The girl don't want to wait too long You've got to tell her about it Tell her now and you won't go wrong You've got to tell her about it Before it gets too late You've got to tell her about it You know the girl don't want to wait You've got to tell her about it
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2:55 - 3:15 in "All My Love" by Led Zeppelin Unnnghhh it gets me every time, oh my god Huurngh<3
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Lo-Fi Featuring Andrew (me) on lead vocals and ukulele, and Andrew (Black Six) on backing vocals We recorded this in his apartment back in December with a silly cheap microphone. And we have a heck of a good time. Click here to listen/download
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Drive, straight through the night (Straight through the night Straight through the night Straight through the night) We can make it home before daylight (before daylight) Drive, straight through the night (Straight through the night Straight through the night Straight through the night) We can make it home before daylight (before daylight) And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side We can make it tonight Straight through the night (Straight through the night Straight through the night Straight through the night) We can make it home before daylight (before daylight) Drive, straight through the night (Straight through the night Straight through the night Straight through the night) We can make it home before daylight (before daylight) And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side We can make it tonight We can make it tonight We can make it tonight We can make it tonight And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side And I'll be by your side We can make it tonight (Straight through the night Straight through the night Straight through the night) We can make it tonight Straight through the night (Straight through the night Straight through the night Straight through the night) We can make it tonight
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This is a combined cover of the Yoko Ono songs 'Every Man Has a Woman Who Loves Him,' 'Every Man Has a Man Who Loves Him,' and 'Every Woman Has a Woman Who Loves Her.' Since we, the members of Taped Headphones, support love no matter where you are on the Kinsey scale, we thought it was a relevant and appropriate sentiment. Download and listen here The mixing job is very poor; we were rush-releasing this in order to have it ready for this month's Powercast. None of us is at this top of his or her vocal game right here - so this is one of several of our tracks I have dog-eared to remix at a later date. But the emotion in Bryan's and Becca's performances are fantastic and I'm comfortable sharing it at this juncture. Support love!
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For different reasons "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys "Let It Be" by the Beatles "Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End" by the Beatles "'Heroes'" by David Bowie "Thorn Tree in the Garden" by Derek and the Dominos "Piano Sonata #17 In D Minor, Op. 31/2, Allegretto" by Ludwig van Beethoven "Beast of Burden" by the Rolling Stones "Come Sail Away" by Styx "Heading for the Light" by the Traveling Wilburys "Brown-Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison There are many, many more
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Only the good die young!
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These are some heroes of mine They all have a few things in common Like being amazing musicians And normal people No different from you or me Freddie Mercury (of Queen); RIP Elton John Rob Halford (of Judas Priest) Ricky Wilson (of the B-52s); RIP Fred Schneider (of the B-52s) Amanda Barrett and Abby DeWald (of the Ditty Bops) David Bowie Dave Davies (of the Kinks)
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=> Vriska's Theme from the 'Alterniabound' flash is the best song in the comic ==> It's not available on any of the albums ===> D:< ====> 'video site' mp3 ripper =====> Now it's on endless loop on my computer :]
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This keychain basically summarizes the three core tenants of my life philosophy. Six billions thank-yous to NIKIRA for sending it to me. Have I mentioned she is the greatest? She is the greatest. I love her. You might say I'm in love with her. It feels weird to type 'Nikira' instead of her real name! She is so great.
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"See Me, Feel Me\Listening to You" From the album Tommy Composed by Pete Townshend See Me ... Feel Me Touch Me ... Heal Me See Me ... Feel Me Touch Me ... Heal Me Listning to you, I get the music Gazing at you, I get the heat Following you, I climb the mountain I get excitement at your feet Right behing you, I see the millions On you, I see the glory From you, I get opinions From you, I get the story Listning to you, I get the music Gazing at you, I get the heat Following you, I climb the mountain I get excitement at your feet Right behing you, I see the millions On you, I see the glory From you, I get opinions From you, I get the story
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I've been playing side 1 of Glass Houses like crazy-lots lately. "You May Be Right" From the album Glass Houses Composed by Billy Joel ... Remember how I found you there, Alone in your electric chair - I told you dirty jokes until you smiled! You were lonely for a man; I said take me as I am - 'Cause you might enjoy some madness for a while. Now think of all the years you tried to Find someone to satisfy you I might be as crazy as you say. If I'm crazy then it's true: That it's all because of you! And you wouldn't want me any other way. You may be right; I may be crazy! But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for. It's too late to fight; It's too late to change me. You may be wrong for all I know - But you may be right ...
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They're all right tonight.
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I recorded a (cover) song just now this morning - I'm not putting this one on the Powercast, but I'll post it here, because why not? It's 'She's Always a Woman' by Billy Joel. I was moved to pick up my guitar and play it; I was feeling it - so I turned the mic on while doing so. It's a good song so I'll probably make a polished version eventually, but if you want to enjoy this for now, here it is: http://macdsn.com/host/dump/She%27s%20Always%20a%20Woman.mp3 Music is a release, you know? Music is like forgiveness - it's divine. As for this song, it's honestly probably my favourite of Billy Joel's compositions, though it didn't used to be. The expressive lyrics paint a picture of a woman, the 'Everywoman,' if you will. She has quirks, she lashes out sometimes - she's unpredictable! But she's wonderful, she's absolutely wonderful. For though she's sometimes suddenly cruel, she's frequently kind. Joel's lyrics are not condemnatory. They are affectionate. The singer loves this woman, with all his heart - and she's not abusing him; he's not 'whipped' or whatnot. He has his quirks too, quirks of a different sort. But this song isn't about him, it's about the woman he loves, and she brings out the best - and the worst - he can be. But he 'blames' that all on himself, because after all, she's only a woman, just like he's only a man. I feel the most important line is the last bit: 'The most she will do is throw shadows at you.' That's saying that all the 'negative' things mentioned in the song are merely shadows. Sometimes she hurts him, yes, but she loves him, and he forgives her. With forgiveness and reconciliation, they move forward, and the hurt is just a shadow; it's not real anymore. "She's Always a Woman" From the album The Stranger Composed by Billy Joel She can kill with her smile; She can wound with her eyes She can ruin your faith with her casual lies And she only reveals what she wants you to see Yes, she hides like a child, but she's always a woman to me She can lead you to love; She can take you or leave you She can ask for the truth, but she'll never believe And she'll take what you give her, as long as it's free She steals like a thief, but she's always a woman to me Oh, she takes care of herself She can wait if she wants She's ahead of her time Oh, and she'll never give out And she'll never give in She just changes her mind And she'll promise you more than the Garden of Eden Then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding And she'll bring out the best, and the worst you can be Blame it all on yourself, 'cause she's always a woman to me Oh, she takes care of herself She can wait if she wants She's ahead of her time Oh, and she'll never give out And she'll never give in She just changes her mind She is frequently kind, and she's suddenly cruel She can do as she pleases; she's nobody's fool And she can't be convicted; she's earned her degree And the most she will do is throw shadows at you - But she's always a woman to me
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I love classic Billy Joel
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This is basically the greatest song ever recorded If you see a faded sign by the side of the road That says fifteen miles to the Love Shack! Love Shack, yeah I'm heading down the Atlanta highway, Looking for the love getaway Heading for the love getaway I got me a car, it's as big as a whale and we're headin' on down to the Love Shack I got me a Chrysler; it seats about twenty So hurry up and bring your jukebox money The Love Shack is a little old place where we can get together Love Shack baby, Love Shack baby Love baby, that's where it's at, Ooo, love baby, that's where it's at Sign says - Woo! - Stay away fools, 'Cause love rules at the Lo-o-ove Shack Well it's set way back in the middle of a field, Just a funky old shack and I gotta get back Glitter on the mattress Glitter on the highway Glitter on the front porch Glitter on the hallway The Love Shack is a little old place where we can get together Love Shack baby! Love Shack baby! Love Shack, that's where it's at! Huggin' and a kissin', dancin' and a lovin', Wearin' next to nothing Cause it's hot as an oven The whole shack shimmies! Woooo! The whole shack shimmies when everybody's Movin' around and around and around and around! Everybody's movin', everybody's groovin' baby! Folks linin' up outside just to get down Everybody's movin', everybody's groovin' baby Funky little shack! Funky little shack! Hop in my Chrysler, it's as big as a whale And it's about to set sail! I got me a car, it seats about twenty So c'mon and bring your jukebox money The Love Shack is a little old place where we can get together Love Shack baby! Love Shack baby! Love Shack, Love Shack Love Shack, that's where it's at! Bang bang bang on the door baby! Knock a little louder baby! Bang bang bang on the door baby! I can't hear you! Bang bang bang on the door baby! Knock a little louder suger! Bang bang bang on the door baby! I can't hear you! Bang bang bang! On the door baby Bang bang bang! On the door Bang bang bang! On the door baby Bang bang! You're what? Tin roof! Rusted. Love Shack, baby Love Shack Love Shack, baby Love Shack! Love Shack, baby Love Shack Love Shack, baby Love Shack! Huggin' and a kissin,' dancin' and a lovin' at the love shack
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EDIT 4-24-10: Re-posting this for reasons similar to its initial posting way back when - both for the person in question and for all who care for said person. I know tomorrow will find better things. ^^ This entry is dedicated to a very special person who has had some rough times lately. "Better Things" by the Kinks Composed by Ray Davies Here's wishing you the bluest sky, And hoping something better comes tomorrow. Hoping all the verses rhyme, And the very best of choruses to Follow all the doubt and sadness. I know that better things are on the way. Here's hoping all the days ahead Won't be as bitter as the ones behind you Be an optimist instead, And somehow happiness will find you Forget what happened yesterday, I know that better things are on the way It's really good to see you rocking out and having fun, Living like you've just begun Accept your life and what it brings I hope tomorrow you'll find better things I hope tomorrow you'll find better things Here's wishing you the bluest sky, And hoping something better comes tomorrow. Hoping all the verses rhyme, And the very best of choruses to Follow all the doubt and sadness I know that better things are on the way I know you've got a lot of good things happening up ahead The past is gone; it's all been said So here's to what the future brings, I know tomorrow you'll find better things. I know tomorrow you'll find better things.
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Sometimes It's Easy To Forget The Little Things
Queen of Noise posted a blog entry in blogs_blog_217
But we really shouldn't. The little things are where love is. ^^; Sorting all the lights and darks Making sure our love won't lose that spark You really didn't have to Funny pictures that you take Dinner out instead of shake and bake You really didn't have to Movies and magazines Filling our heads with dreams Love is the little things Love changes everything Picking me up after work Putting up with all my silly quirks You really didn't have to Saying that my cooking is great While you try to hide a stomach ache You really didn't have to Movies and magazines Filling our heads with dreams Love is the little things Love changes everything -
The screen door slams. Mary's dress waves. Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays. Roy Orbison's singing for the lonely...hey, that's me, and I want you only. Don't turn me home again; I just can't face myself alone again. Don't run back inside, darling - you know just what I'm here for. So you're scared, and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore. Show a little faith, there's magic in the night! You ain't a beauty but hey, you're all right. Oh, and that's all right with me. You can hide 'neath your covers and study your pain, make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain...waste your summer praying in vain for a saviour to rise from these ranks. Well, I'm no hero; that's understood: all the redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood. We've a chance to make it good, somehow - hey, what else can we do now except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair? The night's busting open; these two lanes will take us anywhere. We've got one last chance to make it real, to trade in these wings for some wheels. Climb in back; heaven's waiting down on the tracks. Oh, oh, come take my hand; we're riding out tonight to case the promised land. Oh, oh, oh, oh, Thunder Road...oh, Thunder Road...oh, Thunder Road...lying out there like a killer in the sun...hey, I know it's late; we can make it if we run! Oh, oh, oh, oh, Thunder Road - sit tight! Take hold! Thunder Road! Well, I got this guitar and I learned how to make it talk, and my car's out back if you're ready to take that long walk from the front porch to my front seat. The door's open, but the ride ain't free. Girl, I know you're lonely for words that I ain't spoke, but tonight we'll be free, all the promises will be broken! There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away. They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets. They scream your name at night in the street - your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet. And in the lonely cool before dawn, you hear the engines roaring on...but when you get to the porch, they're gone on the wind, so Mary climb in. It's a town full of losers - I'm pulling out of here to win!
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Oh Edmund Spenser, speak to me in your quasi-archaic poetry! Oh Edmund Spenser I am emitting fangirlish squeals in your honour!
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And We Note Our Place With Bookmarkers That Measure What We've Lost
Queen of Noise posted a blog entry in blogs_blog_217
Yes, we speak of things that matter, with words that must be said "Can analysis be worthwhile?" "Is the theatre really dead?" -
Hello lamp-post; whatcha knowing? I've come to watch your flowers growing Ain'tcha got no rhymes for me? Doot'n'doodoo...
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...the levee's going to break
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Actually I don't feel the whale "represents obsession"; he's far, far more of a complex allegory than that with many inscrutable layers I could write entire theses regarding, but I was trying to be pithy.