Jan 07, 2006 01:15
So I just had one of those wonderfully dorky moments that I can only share with myself. I am listening to my new god, Rufus Wainwright, and I hear this POPPING noise. I turn around....and there are these BEAUTIFUL fireworks! I mean like really high, in the sky, so colorful, and pretty fireworks! And I just got all giddy inside....like I don't need money, or boyfriends, or even to be dependent on my friends all the time for happiness, because I can be absolutely ecstatic BY MYSELF, just looking at these pretty explosions of light in the atmosphere. I then proceeded to dance around in my room to none other than my techno music god, Benny Benassi.
I am just so gosh darn in love with music. I saw this icon today: Music is my boyfriend. And I thought, hmm, this is sort of true.....music is definitely a relationship! Like you can hear a song, and sort of like it, but not know why. But you listen to it again another day, and you like it a little more. And then you play it over and over and over, and become obsessed. You analyze the lyrics, rhythm, melody.....it gets stuck in your head. And then you get sick of it, and don't play it as much. And then a long time later you hear it again, and you have left a soft spot in your heart for this song, so when you listen to it, you feel this overwhelming feeling of nostalgia! I love music. And I'll never get over it.
"North to South
Empty
Running on
Bravado
As if to say, as if to say
As if to say, he doesn't like chocolate
He's born a liar, he'll die a liar
Some things will never be different
Stop being, so American
There's a time and there's a place
So James Dean, so blue jeans
He's gonna save the world, he's gonna!
Are you hoping for a miracle?
Are you hoping for a miracle?
Are you hoping for a miracle?
Are you hoping for a miracle?
Three out of five, three out of five (It's not enough)
Six out of ten, better luck next time
Just like his Dad, just like his Dad (The same mistakes)
Some things will never be different
Hungry and dumb, hungry and dumb (So wait in line)
Queuing up for some more junk food
It's not my fault, it's not my fault (Just this once)
They're getting so much younger
Why can't you be, more European?
Bastard child of guilt and shame
Bury your head, in the sand
I'm thinking six, six, six
I'm thinking six
Are you hoping for a miracle?
Are you hoping for a miracle?
Are you hoping for a miracle?
Are you hoping for a miracle?"