"dance you fucker." - t. homme
drag him out your window dragging out the dead singing i miss you snakes and ladders flip the lid out pops the cracker snaps you in the head knifes you in the neck kicks you in the teeth steel-toed cops takes all your credit cards get up the gunge get the eggs get the flan in the face the flan in the face the flan in the face dance you fucker dance you fucker don't you dare don't you dare don't you flan in the face take it with the love it's given take it with a pinch of salt take it to the taxman let me back let me back i promise to be good don't look in the mirror at the face you don't recognise help me call the doctor put me inside put me inside put me inside put me inside put me inside
i keep the wolf from the door but it calls me up calls me on the phone tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up steal all my children if i don't pay the ransom and i'll never see 'em again if i squeal to the cops
walking like giant cranes and with my x-ray eyes i stripped her naked in a tight little world and are you on the list? stepford wives who are we to complain? investments and dealers investments and dealers cold wives and mistresses cold wives and sunday papers city boys in first class don't know they're born they know someone else is gonna come and clean it up born and raised for the job someone always does i wish you'd get up get over get up get over turn your tape off...
I know I speak mostly in extremes but I seriously cannot imagine another song ever reaching that level of rage, fear, sadness and paranoia at the general state of the world. On one hand it's like, wow, I'm glad I do not live inside Thom Yorke's mind, but on the other hand whenever I listen to it I know and feel exactly what he means. (Sometimes I feel like the way you could most accurately describe me is a female Vince Noir on the surface with the interior occupied by Thom shouting "THE RAINDROPS THE RAINDROPS THE RAINDROPS!" and dancing the Idiot Dance.)
My Radiohead love always ebbs and flows throughout the year as all things do. Lately I'd been worried; it's been a long time since my last resurgence. But oh boys, oh my lovely Oxford boys. I shouldn't have ever doubted myself.
(Note to self, don't drink two shots of espresso at work at night when you're bored.)
ETA: If you are not familiar with T. Homme or Thomosexual, watch this amazing video of the hilarious Adam Buxon helping the artist formerly known as Thom Yorke find a new name. (Thombola?) Seriously, I have watched this way too much. You may find yourself enjoying this video if you are the kind of person who likes bad puns.
i keep the wolf from the door but it calls me up calls me on the phone tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up steal all my children if i don't pay the ransom and i'll never see 'em again if i squeal to the cops
walking like giant cranes and with my x-ray eyes i stripped her naked in a tight little world and are you on the list? stepford wives who are we to complain? investments and dealers investments and dealers cold wives and mistresses cold wives and sunday papers city boys in first class don't know they're born they know someone else is gonna come and clean it up born and raised for the job someone always does i wish you'd get up get over get up get over turn your tape off...
I know I speak mostly in extremes but I seriously cannot imagine another song ever reaching that level of rage, fear, sadness and paranoia at the general state of the world. On one hand it's like, wow, I'm glad I do not live inside Thom Yorke's mind, but on the other hand whenever I listen to it I know and feel exactly what he means. (Sometimes I feel like the way you could most accurately describe me is a female Vince Noir on the surface with the interior occupied by Thom shouting "THE RAINDROPS THE RAINDROPS THE RAINDROPS!" and dancing the Idiot Dance.)
My Radiohead love always ebbs and flows throughout the year as all things do. Lately I'd been worried; it's been a long time since my last resurgence. But oh boys, oh my lovely Oxford boys. I shouldn't have ever doubted myself.
(Note to self, don't drink two shots of espresso at work at night when you're bored.)
ETA: If you are not familiar with T. Homme or Thomosexual, watch this amazing video of the hilarious Adam Buxon helping the artist formerly known as Thom Yorke find a new name. (Thombola?) Seriously, I have watched this way too much. You may find yourself enjoying this video if you are the kind of person who likes bad puns.