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  • Mark 9:06 pm on September 30, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: bright eyes,   

    Music to contemplate life to (#1) 


    So I have been hanging out down by the train’s depot. No, I don’t ride.
    I just sit and watch the people there. And they remind me of wind up cars in motion.
    The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions.
    And I want to scream out that it all is nonsense.
    All your lives one track, can’t you see it’s pointless?
    But then, my knees give under me. My head feels weak and
    suddenly it is clear to see that it is not them but me, who has lost my self-identity.
    As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry,
    like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve.
    And I am never real; it is just a sketch of me.
    And everything I made is trite and cheap and a waste of paint, of tape, of time.
    So now I park my car down my the cathedral, where floodlights point up at the steeples.
    Choir practice was filling up with people. I hear the sound escaping as an echo.
    Sloping off the ceiling at an angle. When voices blend they sound like angels.
    I hope there is some room still in the middle.
    But when I lift my voice up now to reach them. The range is too high, way up in heaven.
    So I hold my tongue, forget the song, tie my shoe and start walking off.
    And try to just keep moving on, with my broken heart and my absent God
    and I have no faith but it is all I want, to be loved and believe in my soul, in my soul…

    (source)

     
  • Mark 8:53 pm on September 30, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: bright eyes,   

    If winter ends 

    I dreamt of a fever,
    One that would cure me of this cold, winter set heart.
    With heat to melt these frozen tears
    Burned with reasons as to carry on.
    Into these twisted months I plunge without a light to follow
    But I swear that I would follow anything
    Just get me out of here.
    And you get six months to adapt
    Then you get two more to leave town.
    And in the event that you do adapt
    We still might not want you around.
    But I fell for the promise of a life with a purpose
    But I know that that’s impossible now.
    And so I drink to stay warm
    And to kill selected memories
    ’cause I just can’t think anymore about that
    Or about her tonight
    But I give myself three days to feel better
    Or else I swear I’ll drive right off a fucking cliff
    ’cause if I can’t learn to make myself feel better
    How can I expect anyone else to give a shit?
    And I scream for the sunlight or a car to take me anywhere
    Just get me past this dead and eternal snow
    ’cause I swear that I’m dying, slowly but it’s happening
    And if the perfect spring is waiting somewhere
    Just take me there, just take me there, just take me there
    And say, and lie to me, and say, and lie to me, and say
    It’s going to be alright [x9]
     
  • Mark 9:47 pm on March 19, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: bright eyes,   

    Road to Joy 

    The sun came up with no conclusions. Flowers sleeping in their beds. The city cemetery’s humming, I’m wide awake it’s morning.

    I have my drugs I have my woman. They keep away my loneliness. My parents they have their religion, but sleep in separate houses.

    I read the body count out of the paper. And now it’s written all over my face. No one ever plans to sleep out in the gutter. Sometimes that’s just the most comfortable place.

    So now I’m drinking, breathing, writing, singing. Everyday I’m on the clock. My mind races with all my longings. But can’t keep up with what I got.

    So I hope I don’t sound too ungrateful, what history gave modern men. A telephone to talk to strangers, a machine gun and a camera lens.

    So when you’re asked to fight a war that’s over nothing. It’s best to join the side that’s going to win. And no one’s sure how all of this got started. But we’re going to make them goddamn certain how it’s going to end.

    I could have been a famous singer, if I had someone else’s voice. But failure’s always sounded better, let’s fuck it up boys. Make some noise.

     
  • Mark 11:38 pm on February 25, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: bright eyes,   

    Haligh, Haligh, A Lie, Haligh 

    The phone slips from a loose grip
    Words were missed then, some apology
    I didn’t want to tell you this
    No, it’s just some guy she’s been hanging out with
    I don’t know, the past couple weeks I guess
    Well, thank you and hang up the phone
    Let the funeral start
    Hear the casket close
    Let’s pin split-black ribbon to your overcoat
    Well, laughter pours from under doors
    In this house, I don’t understand that sound no more
    Seems artificial, like a T.V. set

    Well, haligh, haligh, a lie, haligh
    This weight it must be satisfied
    You offer only one reply
    You know not what you do
    But you tear and tear your hair from roots
    Of that same head you have twice removed now
    A lock of hair you said would prove
    Our love would never die
    Well ha ha ha

    I remember everything
    The words we spoke on freezing South Street
    And all those mornings watching you get ready for school
    You combed your hair inside that mirror
    The one you painted blue and glued with jewelry tears
    Something about those bright colors
    would always make you feel better
    But now we speak with ruined tongues
    And the words we say aren’t meant for anyone
    It’s just a mumbled sentence to a passing acquaintance
    But there was once you

    You said you hate my suffering
    And you understood
    And you’d take care of me
    You’d always be there
    Well where are you now?

    Haligh, haligh, a lie, haligh
    The plans were never finalized
    But left to hang like yarn and twine
    Dangling before my eyes
    As you tear and tear your hair from roots
    Of that same head you have twice removed now
    A lock of hair you said would prove
    Our love would never die

    And I sing and sing of awful things
    The pleasure that my sadness brings
    As my fingers press onto the strings
    In yet another clumsy chord
    Haligh, haligh, an awful lie
    This weight would now be satisfied
    I’m gonna give you only one reply
    I know not who I am

    But I talk in the mirror
    To the stranger that appears
    Our conversations are circles
    Always one sided
    Nothing is clear

    Except we keep coming back
    To this meaning that I lack
    He says the choices were given
    Now you must live them
    Or just not live
    But do you want that?

     
  • Mark 9:00 pm on February 19, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: bright eyes,   

    “in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn’t dream” 

    We must talk in every telephone
    Get eaten off the web
    We must rip out all the epilogues in the books that we have read
    And in the face of every criminal
    Strapped firmly to a chair
    We must stare, we must stare, we must stare

    We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sell
    Set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell
    And in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn’t dream
    We must sing, we must sing, we must sing

    It’ll go like this:

    While my mother waters plants
    My father loads his guns
    He says death will give us back to God
    Just like this setting sun is returned to this lonesome ocean

    And then they splashed into the deep blue sea
    It was a wonderful splash

    We must blend into the choir
    Sing as static with the whole
    We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul
    And in this endless race for property and privilege to be won
    We must run, we must run, we must run

    We must hang up in the belfry
    Where the bats and moonlight laugh
    We must stare into a crystal ball and only see the past
    And in the caverns of tomorrow
    With just our flashlights and our love
    We must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge

    And then we’ll get down there, way down to the very bottom of everything
    And then we’ll see it, oh we’ll see it, we’ll see it, we’ll see it

    Oh my morning’s coming back
    The whole world’s waking up
    All the city buses swimming past
    I’m happy just because
    I found out I am really no one

    http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/brighteyes/atthebottomofeverything.html

     
  • Mark 6:11 am on February 19, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: bright eyes,   

    As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry 

    So now I hang out down by the train’s depot
    No, I don’t ride, I just sit and watch the people there
    The remind me of windup cars in motion
    The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions
    And I want to scream out that it all is nonsense
    And their life’s one track and can’t they see it’s pointless?
    But just then my knees give under me
    My head feels weak and suddenly
    It’s clear to see it’s not them but me
    Who’s lost my self-identity
    And I hide behind these books I read
    While scribbling my poetry
    Like art could save a wretch like me
    With some ideal ideology
    That no one could hope to achieve
    And I’m never real, it’s just a sketch of me
    And everything I’ve made is trite and cheap
    And a waste
    Of paint, of tape, of time

    http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/73076/

     
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