I know you've heard it all before
But I'm sorry for this three year war
For the setting up of camps
and wire and trenches
I'm sorry for the other night
I know sorry it don't make it right
I'm sorry for things I can't even mention
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog
You keep nailing me back into my box
I'm sorry I keep popping back up
With my crazy mouth
and jangling jester's cap
I'm sorry I ever wrote that book
I'm sorry for the way I look
But there ain't a lot that
I can do about that
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry about the hospital
Some things are unforgivable
That things simply cannot be forgiven
I was not equipped to know how to care
Amnd on the occassions I came up for air
I saw my life and wondered
what the hell I had been living
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very very sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry about all your friends
I hope they'll speak to me again
I said before I'd pay for all the damages
I'm sorry it's just rotten luck
I'm sorry I've forgotten how to fuck
It's just that I think my heart
and soul are kind of famished
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog
Forgive me, baby but don't worry
Love is always having to
say you're sorry
And I am, from my head
down to my shoes
I'm sorry that I'm always pissed
I'm sorry that I exist
And when I look into your eyes
I can see you're sorry too
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm sitting feeling sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very thirsty in the Sorry Dog
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
I'm feeling very sorry in the Thirsty Dog
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
i thought you were god - clare bowditch
Storeman, your eyes all watery white
"Another long, long night?" and you say
"Be careful riding
That boy's bike in the dark."
"Don't worry, I'm not going far."
I was very, very young
And terribly in love
And not yet knowing that
Love alone may not be enough
To counter all the silly things I thought
I thought you were God
The night sky is peeling back her sheets
And the linen is lavender and underneath it
I ride your bike
The bike bar's cutting into my crotch
I stand up and power-pedal on
I was very, very young
And terribly in love
Not yet knowing that
Love alone may not be enough
To counter all the stupid things I thought
I thought you were God
God, God
God, God
I thought you were God
And I, I believed in you
We still talk
We still talk quite a lot
Since the alarming discovery
That you were never God and
We still love
But the laughter's more sincere
'Cause it's speckled with your tears
You were so young
And terribly in love
And not yet knowing that
Love alone may not be enough
To undo all the secret things I thought
I thought you were God
"Another long, long night?" and you say
"Be careful riding
That boy's bike in the dark."
"Don't worry, I'm not going far."
I was very, very young
And terribly in love
And not yet knowing that
Love alone may not be enough
To counter all the silly things I thought
I thought you were God
The night sky is peeling back her sheets
And the linen is lavender and underneath it
I ride your bike
The bike bar's cutting into my crotch
I stand up and power-pedal on
I was very, very young
And terribly in love
Not yet knowing that
Love alone may not be enough
To counter all the stupid things I thought
I thought you were God
God, God
God, God
I thought you were God
And I, I believed in you
We still talk
We still talk quite a lot
Since the alarming discovery
That you were never God and
We still love
But the laughter's more sincere
'Cause it's speckled with your tears
You were so young
And terribly in love
And not yet knowing that
Love alone may not be enough
To undo all the secret things I thought
I thought you were God
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
veronica - elvis costello
Is it all in that pretty little head of yours?
What goes on in that place in the dark?
Well I used to know a girl and I would have
sworn that her name was Veronica
Well she used to have a carefree mind of her
own and a delicate look in her eye
These days I'm afraid she's not even sure if her
name is Veronica
Do you suppose, that waiting hands on eyes,
Veronica has gone to hide?
And all the time she laughs at those who shout
her name and steal her clothes
Veronica
Veronica
Did the days drag by? Did the favours wane?
Did he roam down the town all the time?
Will you wake from your dream, with a wolf at
the door, reaching out for Veronica
Well it was all of sixty-five years ago
When the world was the street where she lived
And a young man sailed on a ship in the sea
With a picture of Veronica
On the "Empress of India"
And as she closed her eyes upon the world and
picked upon the bones of last week's news
She spoke his name outloud again
Do you suppose, that waiting hands on eyes,
Veronica has gone to hide?
And all the time she laughs at those who shout
her name and steal her clothes
Veronica
Veronica
Veronica sits in her favourite chair and she sits
very quiet and still
And they call her a name that they never get
right and if they don't then nobody else will
But she used to have a carefree mind of her
own, with devilish look in her eye
Saying "You can call me anything you like, but
my name is Veronica
What goes on in that place in the dark?
Well I used to know a girl and I would have
sworn that her name was Veronica
Well she used to have a carefree mind of her
own and a delicate look in her eye
These days I'm afraid she's not even sure if her
name is Veronica
Do you suppose, that waiting hands on eyes,
Veronica has gone to hide?
And all the time she laughs at those who shout
her name and steal her clothes
Veronica
Veronica
Did the days drag by? Did the favours wane?
Did he roam down the town all the time?
Will you wake from your dream, with a wolf at
the door, reaching out for Veronica
Well it was all of sixty-five years ago
When the world was the street where she lived
And a young man sailed on a ship in the sea
With a picture of Veronica
On the "Empress of India"
And as she closed her eyes upon the world and
picked upon the bones of last week's news
She spoke his name outloud again
Do you suppose, that waiting hands on eyes,
Veronica has gone to hide?
And all the time she laughs at those who shout
her name and steal her clothes
Veronica
Veronica
Veronica sits in her favourite chair and she sits
very quiet and still
And they call her a name that they never get
right and if they don't then nobody else will
But she used to have a carefree mind of her
own, with devilish look in her eye
Saying "You can call me anything you like, but
my name is Veronica
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Silence - Polly Jean Harvey
All those places
Where I recall the memories
That gripped me
And pinned me down
I go to these places
Intending to think
To think of nothing
No anticipate
And somehow expect
You'll find me there
That by some miracle
You'd be aware
I'd risen this morning
Determined to break
The spell of my longing
And not to think
I freed myself from my family
I freed myself from work
I freed myself
I freed myself
And remained alone
And in my thinking
Steal you away
Though you never wanted me
Anyway
Silence
Silence
Silence
Silence
Where I recall the memories
That gripped me
And pinned me down
I go to these places
Intending to think
To think of nothing
No anticipate
And somehow expect
You'll find me there
That by some miracle
You'd be aware
I'd risen this morning
Determined to break
The spell of my longing
And not to think
I freed myself from my family
I freed myself from work
I freed myself
I freed myself
And remained alone
And in my thinking
Steal you away
Though you never wanted me
Anyway
Silence
Silence
Silence
Silence
the art teacher - rufus wainwright
There I was in uniform
Looking at the art teacher
I was just a girl then;
Never have I loved since then
He was not that much older than I was
He had taken our class to the Metropolitan Museum
He asked us what our favorite work of art was,
But never could I tell it was him
Oh, I wish I could tell him --
Oh, I wish I could have told him
I looked at the Rubens and Rembrandts
I liked the John Singer Sargents
He told me he liked Turner
Never have I turned since then
No, never have I turned to any other man
All this having been said,
I married an executive company head
All this having been done, a Turner - I own one
Here I am in this uniformish, pant-suit sort of thing,
Thinking of the art teacher
I was just a girl then;
Never have I loved since then
No, never have I loved any other man
Looking at the art teacher
I was just a girl then;
Never have I loved since then
He was not that much older than I was
He had taken our class to the Metropolitan Museum
He asked us what our favorite work of art was,
But never could I tell it was him
Oh, I wish I could tell him --
Oh, I wish I could have told him
I looked at the Rubens and Rembrandts
I liked the John Singer Sargents
He told me he liked Turner
Never have I turned since then
No, never have I turned to any other man
All this having been said,
I married an executive company head
All this having been done, a Turner - I own one
Here I am in this uniformish, pant-suit sort of thing,
Thinking of the art teacher
I was just a girl then;
Never have I loved since then
No, never have I loved any other man
vibrate - rufus wainwright
my phone's on vibrate for you
electro clash is karaoke too
i tried to dance britney spears
i guess i'm getting on in years
my phone's on vibrate for you
god knows what all these new drugs do
except to have no more fears
but still i always end up in tears
my phone's on vibrate for you
but still i never ever feel from you
pinochio's now a boy
who wants to turn back into a toy
so call me,
call me in the morning
call me in the night
so call me
call me anytime you like
my phone's on vibrate
electro clash is karaoke too
i tried to dance britney spears
i guess i'm getting on in years
my phone's on vibrate for you
god knows what all these new drugs do
except to have no more fears
but still i always end up in tears
my phone's on vibrate for you
but still i never ever feel from you
pinochio's now a boy
who wants to turn back into a toy
so call me,
call me in the morning
call me in the night
so call me
call me anytime you like
my phone's on vibrate
from the little prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupery
The little prince went away, to look again at the roses. "You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world." And the roses were very much embarrassed. "You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you, the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
Kahil Gibran (on love)
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
from when harry met sally
"I love that you get cold when it's seventy one degrees out, I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich, I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts, I love that after I spend a day with you I can still smell your perfume on my clothes and I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Years Eve. I came here tonight because when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of the life to start as soon as possible"
from the Novel Monkey Grip by Helen Garner
so I thought I was never quite sure
or never really quite sure
not really ever quite sure
straining, but the again gently
trying,
never or maybe not quite bleeding,
but then again not talking
to anyone,
saying what I mean
is always a mean way of saying
that I like a lot of you
or I like you a lot/more than
ever what I'm saying
or maybe your body meets mine
a lot more politely than shaking hands
or never really quite sure
not really ever quite sure
straining, but the again gently
trying,
never or maybe not quite bleeding,
but then again not talking
to anyone,
saying what I mean
is always a mean way of saying
that I like a lot of you
or I like you a lot/more than
ever what I'm saying
or maybe your body meets mine
a lot more politely than shaking hands
graffitti found in a toilet cubicle at the arthouse
i loved you when our love was blessed
and i love you now there's nothing left
except sorrow and a sense of overtime
and i missed you when our place got wrecked
by the winds of change and the ways of sex
....it looks like freedom but it feels like death
and i love you now there's nothing left
except sorrow and a sense of overtime
and i missed you when our place got wrecked
by the winds of change and the ways of sex
....it looks like freedom but it feels like death
love is like a bottle of gin - the magnetic fields
It makes you blind, it does you in
It makes you think you're pretty tough
It makes you prone to crime and sin
It makes you say things off the cuff
It's very small and made of glass
and grossly over-advertised
It turns a genius into an ass
and makes a fool think he is wise
It could make you regret your birth
or turn cartwheels in your best suit
It costs a lot more than it's worth
and yet there is no substitute
They keep it on a higher shelf
the older and more pure it grows
It has no color in itself
but it can make you see rainbows
You can find it at the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
You just get what they put in
and they never put in enough
Love is like a bottle of gin
but a bottle of gin is not like love
It makes you think you're pretty tough
It makes you prone to crime and sin
It makes you say things off the cuff
It's very small and made of glass
and grossly over-advertised
It turns a genius into an ass
and makes a fool think he is wise
It could make you regret your birth
or turn cartwheels in your best suit
It costs a lot more than it's worth
and yet there is no substitute
They keep it on a higher shelf
the older and more pure it grows
It has no color in itself
but it can make you see rainbows
You can find it at the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
You just get what they put in
and they never put in enough
Love is like a bottle of gin
but a bottle of gin is not like love
i don't want to get over you - the magnetic fields
I don't want to get over you.
I guess I could take a sleeping pill and sleep at will
and not have to go through what I go through.
I guess I should take Prozac, right,
and just smile all night at somebody new.
Somebody not too bright but sweet and kind
who would try to get you off my mind.
I could leave this agony behind,
which is just what I'd do if I wanted to.
But I don't want to get over you.
Cause, I don't want to get over love.
I could listen to my therapist, pretend you don't exist
and not have to dream of what I dream of.
I could listen to all my friends and go out again
and pretend it's enough,
or I could make a career of being blue...
I could dress in black and read Camus,
smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth
like I was 17 that would be a scream.
But I don't want to get over you
I guess I could take a sleeping pill and sleep at will
and not have to go through what I go through.
I guess I should take Prozac, right,
and just smile all night at somebody new.
Somebody not too bright but sweet and kind
who would try to get you off my mind.
I could leave this agony behind,
which is just what I'd do if I wanted to.
But I don't want to get over you.
Cause, I don't want to get over love.
I could listen to my therapist, pretend you don't exist
and not have to dream of what I dream of.
I could listen to all my friends and go out again
and pretend it's enough,
or I could make a career of being blue...
I could dress in black and read Camus,
smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth
like I was 17 that would be a scream.
But I don't want to get over you
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