May 23, 2009 13:43
If there is anything I hate more that is weirdly symbolic and annoying in my life it is the dishes.
I am actually about to be lame enough to post lyrics to a song in this live journal entry. I know. I also am ashamed of me. but this is a grogeous song and I can't actually make it play. It's not completely in the spirit of my mood but its close-ish? Its all acapela (s/p) with haromonies by Imogean heap and it sounds beautiful and hollow and amazing.
Where are we? What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to form,
Crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling.
Spin me round again and rub my eyes.
This can't be happening.
When busy streets a mess with people
would stop to hold their heads heavy.
Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines.
All those years they were here first.
Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before.
The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this
still life.
Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines. (Oh, you won't catch me around here)
Blood and tears,
They were here first.
Mmm, what you say?
Mm, that you only meant well? Well, of course you did.
Mmm, what you say?
Mm, that it's all for the best? Ah of course it is.
Mmm, what you say?
Mm, that it's just what we need? And you decided this.
Mmm what you say?
What did she say?
Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth.
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs.
Speak no feeling, no I dont believe you.
You don't care a bit. You don't care a bit.
Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth.
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs.
Speak no feeling, no I don't believe you.
You don't care a bit. You don't care a bit.
You don't care a bit.
You don't care a bit.
You don't care a bit.
You don't care a bit.
You don't care a bit