Monday, December 28, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Purging
Humans are parasites. We've destroyed the balance of life on our planet and will continue to harvest that which isn't ours until the human race is the only thing left standing. It sickens me to be one of these creatures that is the embodiment of evil. My single spark is nothing in the lifestream of our world. Who am I to try to change that which will not change. People are living the longest lives we have ever lived, and for what? So we can suck this planet dry for only a few years longer? Medicine protects us from plagues that the earth creates with the soul purpose of cleansing itself. We are the plague. It takes certain things in life to startle me into remembering and to humble me so I can see what we are doing from an outside perspective. Instead of inhabiting this planet and living with it, we are instead, living against it. And when the time comes, it will be the planet that destroys us, or we who destroy the planet.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Favorite Pokemon
In honor of Pokemon Profile Pic December:
these are my top 10 favorite Pokemon. Starting with my favorite, JOLTEON!!
1. Jolteon
2. Abra
3. Espeon
4. Eevee
5. Gengar
6. Alakazam
7. Mew
8. Cubone
9. Articuno
10. Growlithe
these are my top 10 favorite Pokemon. Starting with my favorite, JOLTEON!!
1. Jolteon
2. Abra
3. Espeon
4. Eevee
5. Gengar
6. Alakazam
7. Mew
8. Cubone
9. Articuno
10. Growlithe
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Army of Darkness
Dude, Army of Darkness is full of fantabulous quotes! Such as...:
"Yo she-bitch. Let's go"
"Groovy"
"Give me some sugar, baby."
"I'm blind! I'm blind!"
"Good, Bad... I'm the guy with the gun."
"Yo she-bitch. Let's go"
"Groovy"
"Give me some sugar, baby."
"I'm blind! I'm blind!"
"Good, Bad... I'm the guy with the gun."
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Metalocalypse at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium
this is my final assignment for Music Appreciation class: A one-page concert review
Metalocalypse at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium
by. Skye Adams
On the evening of October 16th, 2009, I entered the Roy Wilkins Auditorium and was immediately lost in a sea of black metal shirts. A popular adult cartoon titled Metalocalypse, based around the fictional progressive metal band, Dethklok, was touring the country with fellow “prog metal” band, Mastodon. Along with the two lesser bands that opened the show the duo made for a performance of epic proportions.
Although metal has been viewed negatively by many sophisticated critics its subgenre, progressive metal, utilizes an enormous amount of musical theory. Intertwined with a powerful dose of complex compositional structures, abnormal time signatures and intricate instrument playing, progressive metal and bands like Mastodon are definitely worthy of more respect from today’s musical critics.
Mastodon took stage and provided the audience with nothing but an amazing performance. While playing the majority of their newly released concept album, Crack the Skye, the audience was captivated by a full screen visual representation of the selections being performed. The visual and audio combination stimulated the audience and a common attitude of musical appreciation could be felt throughout the venue.
One selection entitled, “The Czar” could be considered as a loose modern day representation of the classical symphony. The collection is organized into four distinct parts titled, “Usurper”, ”Escape”, “Martyr”, and “Spiral.” Beginning with a dream like introduction, the audience was mesmerized as the exposition described two themes to be reintroduced later in the piece. “Usurper” quickly developed into “Escape,” which altered the theme of the song while still being able to keep the audience enthralled. “Martyr” could be considered the equivalent to a Symphony’s third movement, the minuet. Although it is not focused around the traditional ¾ time signature, it does represent the minuet’s delicate and dance-like characteristics. Last, “Spiral” reviews the original themes introduced in “Usurper” and elegantly brings the piece to an end.
Mastodon is known for their ability to intertwine jazz-fusion and classical themes into their music. Their performance at Metalocalypse could be considered one of the best live performances I have been blessed to witness. Due to their ground breaking methods, many believe that Mastodon will leave a large imprint in musical history for generations to come.
Metalocalypse at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium
by. Skye Adams
On the evening of October 16th, 2009, I entered the Roy Wilkins Auditorium and was immediately lost in a sea of black metal shirts. A popular adult cartoon titled Metalocalypse, based around the fictional progressive metal band, Dethklok, was touring the country with fellow “prog metal” band, Mastodon. Along with the two lesser bands that opened the show the duo made for a performance of epic proportions.
Although metal has been viewed negatively by many sophisticated critics its subgenre, progressive metal, utilizes an enormous amount of musical theory. Intertwined with a powerful dose of complex compositional structures, abnormal time signatures and intricate instrument playing, progressive metal and bands like Mastodon are definitely worthy of more respect from today’s musical critics.
Mastodon took stage and provided the audience with nothing but an amazing performance. While playing the majority of their newly released concept album, Crack the Skye, the audience was captivated by a full screen visual representation of the selections being performed. The visual and audio combination stimulated the audience and a common attitude of musical appreciation could be felt throughout the venue.
One selection entitled, “The Czar” could be considered as a loose modern day representation of the classical symphony. The collection is organized into four distinct parts titled, “Usurper”, ”Escape”, “Martyr”, and “Spiral.” Beginning with a dream like introduction, the audience was mesmerized as the exposition described two themes to be reintroduced later in the piece. “Usurper” quickly developed into “Escape,” which altered the theme of the song while still being able to keep the audience enthralled. “Martyr” could be considered the equivalent to a Symphony’s third movement, the minuet. Although it is not focused around the traditional ¾ time signature, it does represent the minuet’s delicate and dance-like characteristics. Last, “Spiral” reviews the original themes introduced in “Usurper” and elegantly brings the piece to an end.
Mastodon is known for their ability to intertwine jazz-fusion and classical themes into their music. Their performance at Metalocalypse could be considered one of the best live performances I have been blessed to witness. Due to their ground breaking methods, many believe that Mastodon will leave a large imprint in musical history for generations to come.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Louder Than Thunder
Louder than Thunder by The Devil Wears Prada
What would it take for things to be quiet?
Quiet, like the snow.
And I know this isn't much but,
I know I could I could be better.
I don't think I deserve it;
Selflessness.
Find your way into my heart.
All stars could be brighter.
All hearts could be warmer.
What would it take for things to be quiet?
Quiet, like the snow.
Are we meant to be empty handed?
I know I could I could be better.
I don't think I deserve it;
Selflessness.
Find your way into my arms.
All stars could be brighter.
All hearts could be warmer.
What would it take for things to be quiet?
What would it take for things to be quiet?
Quiet, like the snow.
And I know this isn't much but,
I know I could I could be better.
I don't think I deserve it;
Selflessness.
Find your way into my heart.
All stars could be brighter.
All hearts could be warmer.
What would it take for things to be quiet?
Quiet, like the snow.
Are we meant to be empty handed?
I know I could I could be better.
I don't think I deserve it;
Selflessness.
Find your way into my arms.
All stars could be brighter.
All hearts could be warmer.
What would it take for things to be quiet?
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
Brusha
My roommate and I make signs to remind us and encourage use to follow through with our everyday tasks. Here is one I made today:
Saturday, November 21, 2009
The Inner Workings of the 12-year-old Girl's Mind
Written by Meaghan O, from www.meaghano.com
I spent 1994 to 1997 harboring the same unrequited crush on a boy who, when he heard, told our entire 4th grade class as we lined up to go back inside after recess, that this couldn’t possibly be true, because “if Meaghan O. liked me, I would be in the bathroom barfing right now.”
“It’s not true!” I yelled out, and wanted to die. I mean, truly wanted to die in a way you don’t really want to die anymore when you grow up. Don’t get me wrong, I want to die all the time still but not in that way. Not in that I am nothing way.
So I was ass over elbows for this kid for pretty much the rest of my adolescence, and eventually we became friends because I sort of leveled up in popularity self-esteem after quitting Girl Scouts and refusing to wear glasses and reading all of my mom’s Anatomy books so that I told everyone I knew everything I knew about fuckin and then got kicked out of the gifted program because I had a mouth like a sailor and was generally too much of a badass. Anyway we became friends and I would write poems about him and he would find out and I would do presentations in class about Madonna songs I considered to be about him and he would sit through them, and I would give him nicknames and send him long notes about how he PLAYED with my HEART and then we would hold hands during Anne Frank and he would tell me I looked really pretty in my new smiley face hair clip but that Michael Fowler was telling all the boys in PE class that I didn’t wear gym shorts under my pleated skirt.
Eventually things escalated and we talked on the phone every night from 4:10 (when he got off the bus and I finished my math homework) until 8pm (when my mom kicked me off the phone because…I…had… been on it for four hours) and when I was grounded he would pretend to have a homework question and we would do our homework out loud and then he would tell me he just did that so he could hear my voice I would hang up and run and sing and skip around the house and my mom would say, Baby, I hate to tell you this, but that ain’t ever gonna happen.
And I probably yelled at her then went and wrote in my diary and made plans to go to the skating rink over Thanksgiving.
We went and we held hands during couples skate to LeeAnn Rimes’ “How Do I Live (without you! srsly!)” but we- well, somehow, at 12, we managed to be in the sort of relationship gray area mostly tailored to people our age now! But much like now I was in no hurry to define things! I didn’t care about lousy titles! I just wanted to hold hands during the sad songs so I knew what it felt like and could yell at my mom that I knew what love was more than she ever would! It was fall of ‘97 and I was literally living out a dream— a dream I had written about for years and years in my stupid diaries and in Petrarchan sonnets rife with simile and forced rhyme, in notes to my stupid friends who would always show them to him on the bus ride home, in elaborate math equations, theonly time i enjoy it, attempting to predict the likelihood of our together forever-ness based on vowels and consonants and dammit our names had so many wonderful E’s! — but he told my friend he wasn’t sure. He was 12 and he liked to hold my hand but he had read my sonnets and he wasn’t sure. He had heard my ideas of “Take a Bow” and all it meant and he wasn’t sure. He could never really know, you see, if he really liked me or if he just liked me because I loved him.
He said we couldn’t be together because he could never love me as much as I loved him.
No seriously, he did. This was like 1997 and he was emotionally unavailable.
Anyway Christmas break came around and I went to Tallahassee to look for our new house and by the time I got back he was GOING OUT with a girl who was in HIGH SCHOOL and the rumor was that he did things to her that Romeo did to Juliet in the Baz Luhrman movie (sorry, couldn’t make that up).
Obviously I cried a lot but it fit perfectly with my overtly tragic (Lurlene McDaniel-influenced) sense of how things would pan out for me in the long run. I wrote him notes that would put a grown man TO SHAME. 10, 20 page notes with the rhetorical skill of Friends, Romans, Countryman but more along the lines of, and I quote, “thank you for teaching me what suck feels like”.
Eventually my rage subsided into deciding to pretend the girl friend didn’t exist and letting him call me every night again and letting him sneak up behind me in the lunchline every day and put his cold chocolate milk up to my cheek to scare me which only worked the first few times but months and months later was something I got excited about in the shower before school. Soon enough we were passing notes again and I taught him how to write block letters and he taught me about the NBA and we’d do all our assignments together and his hand would always be on my thigh before we knew why we liked it and soon we were getting in trouble for ‘giving each other googly eyes’ in class and people called me a whore for flirting with him and people gave him shit for leading me on but i didn’t CARE because here was my dream so we passed note after note after note and I still have most of them and most of them end the same way.
Every time he wrote me a note he would write 8 little ‘lines’ before he signed his name.
He wouldn’t tell me what they meant and I was never really sure but he wrote them every time. He would come over and write them on my math homework, on the margins of my social studies notes, on the cover of my religion book, in white out on his backpack. I went utterly batshit but he never gave in, just smiled and shrugged and made my heart pine for him to such an extreme it’s a wonder I didn’t pass out half the time.
Soon the lines became some other language between us, carving out a little 12 year old Us-Them before we knew that’s what people did; we wrote our names in block letters and we had nicknames for everything and we’d write Mariah Carey song lyrics in tiny writing at the bottom of our letters and I think that was one of the last times I participated in something, in intimacy, before I could name it.
And then one day he told me he broke up with his girl friend.
And then a few days later he told me there were 8 lines because there were 8 letters in I love you.
And then we totally made out.
I spent 1994 to 1997 harboring the same unrequited crush on a boy who, when he heard, told our entire 4th grade class as we lined up to go back inside after recess, that this couldn’t possibly be true, because “if Meaghan O. liked me, I would be in the bathroom barfing right now.”
“It’s not true!” I yelled out, and wanted to die. I mean, truly wanted to die in a way you don’t really want to die anymore when you grow up. Don’t get me wrong, I want to die all the time still but not in that way. Not in that I am nothing way.
So I was ass over elbows for this kid for pretty much the rest of my adolescence, and eventually we became friends because I sort of leveled up in popularity self-esteem after quitting Girl Scouts and refusing to wear glasses and reading all of my mom’s Anatomy books so that I told everyone I knew everything I knew about fuckin and then got kicked out of the gifted program because I had a mouth like a sailor and was generally too much of a badass. Anyway we became friends and I would write poems about him and he would find out and I would do presentations in class about Madonna songs I considered to be about him and he would sit through them, and I would give him nicknames and send him long notes about how he PLAYED with my HEART and then we would hold hands during Anne Frank and he would tell me I looked really pretty in my new smiley face hair clip but that Michael Fowler was telling all the boys in PE class that I didn’t wear gym shorts under my pleated skirt.
Eventually things escalated and we talked on the phone every night from 4:10 (when he got off the bus and I finished my math homework) until 8pm (when my mom kicked me off the phone because…I…had… been on it for four hours) and when I was grounded he would pretend to have a homework question and we would do our homework out loud and then he would tell me he just did that so he could hear my voice I would hang up and run and sing and skip around the house and my mom would say, Baby, I hate to tell you this, but that ain’t ever gonna happen.
And I probably yelled at her then went and wrote in my diary and made plans to go to the skating rink over Thanksgiving.
We went and we held hands during couples skate to LeeAnn Rimes’ “How Do I Live (without you! srsly!)” but we- well, somehow, at 12, we managed to be in the sort of relationship gray area mostly tailored to people our age now! But much like now I was in no hurry to define things! I didn’t care about lousy titles! I just wanted to hold hands during the sad songs so I knew what it felt like and could yell at my mom that I knew what love was more than she ever would! It was fall of ‘97 and I was literally living out a dream— a dream I had written about for years and years in my stupid diaries and in Petrarchan sonnets rife with simile and forced rhyme, in notes to my stupid friends who would always show them to him on the bus ride home, in elaborate math equations, theonly time i enjoy it, attempting to predict the likelihood of our together forever-ness based on vowels and consonants and dammit our names had so many wonderful E’s! — but he told my friend he wasn’t sure. He was 12 and he liked to hold my hand but he had read my sonnets and he wasn’t sure. He had heard my ideas of “Take a Bow” and all it meant and he wasn’t sure. He could never really know, you see, if he really liked me or if he just liked me because I loved him.
He said we couldn’t be together because he could never love me as much as I loved him.
No seriously, he did. This was like 1997 and he was emotionally unavailable.
Anyway Christmas break came around and I went to Tallahassee to look for our new house and by the time I got back he was GOING OUT with a girl who was in HIGH SCHOOL and the rumor was that he did things to her that Romeo did to Juliet in the Baz Luhrman movie (sorry, couldn’t make that up).
Obviously I cried a lot but it fit perfectly with my overtly tragic (Lurlene McDaniel-influenced) sense of how things would pan out for me in the long run. I wrote him notes that would put a grown man TO SHAME. 10, 20 page notes with the rhetorical skill of Friends, Romans, Countryman but more along the lines of, and I quote, “thank you for teaching me what suck feels like”.
Eventually my rage subsided into deciding to pretend the girl friend didn’t exist and letting him call me every night again and letting him sneak up behind me in the lunchline every day and put his cold chocolate milk up to my cheek to scare me which only worked the first few times but months and months later was something I got excited about in the shower before school. Soon enough we were passing notes again and I taught him how to write block letters and he taught me about the NBA and we’d do all our assignments together and his hand would always be on my thigh before we knew why we liked it and soon we were getting in trouble for ‘giving each other googly eyes’ in class and people called me a whore for flirting with him and people gave him shit for leading me on but i didn’t CARE because here was my dream so we passed note after note after note and I still have most of them and most of them end the same way.
Every time he wrote me a note he would write 8 little ‘lines’ before he signed his name.
He wouldn’t tell me what they meant and I was never really sure but he wrote them every time. He would come over and write them on my math homework, on the margins of my social studies notes, on the cover of my religion book, in white out on his backpack. I went utterly batshit but he never gave in, just smiled and shrugged and made my heart pine for him to such an extreme it’s a wonder I didn’t pass out half the time.
Soon the lines became some other language between us, carving out a little 12 year old Us-Them before we knew that’s what people did; we wrote our names in block letters and we had nicknames for everything and we’d write Mariah Carey song lyrics in tiny writing at the bottom of our letters and I think that was one of the last times I participated in something, in intimacy, before I could name it.
And then one day he told me he broke up with his girl friend.
And then a few days later he told me there were 8 lines because there were 8 letters in I love you.
And then we totally made out.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Eye! low-ree-ay lahn-tar lahs-see soo-ree-nehn,
yay-nee oon-oh-tee-may vay rah-mar ahl-dar-on!
Yay-nee vay leen-tay yool-dar ah-vahn-ee-air
mee oh-roh-mar-dee lee-say-meer-oo-vore-ay-vah
Ahn-doon-ay peh-lah, Var-doe tehl-loo-mar
noo loo-een-ee yah-sen tin-till-are ee ehl-ehn-ee
oh-mar-yo eye-ray-tar-ee-leer-ee-nehn.
See mahn ee yool-mah neen ehn-quahn-too-vah?
Ahn see Tin-tahl-lay Varda Oy-oh-lohs-say-oh
vay fahn-yar mar-yaht Ehl-ehn-tar-ee or-tah-nay,
are eel-yay tee-air oon-doo-lah-vay loom-boo-lay;
are seen-dahn-ore-ee-ell-oh kye-tah more-nee-ay
ee fahl-mahl-een-are eem-bay meht, are hee-see-ay
oon-too-pah Kahl-ah-keer-yo meer-ee oy-all-ay.
See vahn-wah nah, Roh-mell-oh vahn-wah, Vah-lee-mar!
Nah-mar-ee-ay! Nigh hear-oo-vahl-yay Vah-lee-mar.
Nigh ell-yay hear-oo-vah. Nah-mar-ee-ay!
Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind,
long years numberless as the wings of trees!
The years have passed like swift draughts
of the sweet mead in
lofty halls beyond the West,
beneath the Orange vaults of Varda
wherein the stars tremble
in the song of her voice, holy and queenly.
Who now shall refill the cup for me?
For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars, from Mount Everwhite
has uplifted her hands like clouds,
and all paths are drowned deep in shadow;
and out of a grey country darkness lies
on the foaming waves between us, and mist
covers the jewels of Calacirya forever.
Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar!
Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Heartless
A Day To Remember - "Heartless" lyrics
For once my eyes are open to you, and everything you’ve said.
For once your web of lies is in the open.
I gave you everything I had, until I had nothing left.
And Still you act as if I’m just a burden.
I’ve finally let go.
Let go
Let go
Stay silent at least for now, and let me move on.
Cause I’m so done playing these games with my heart
I’ve been around the world and back for you, and now its time to choose.
I’ve been swallowed by this wreck that you call your life.
I’m damaged from the inside. I’ve been broken.
Don’t threaten me with what you think I feel.
If you could read my mind you’d be in tears.
I’m sick of your excuses you hold above me.
I’ve finally come to terms with what I am.
I’m nothing in your eyes, this will not change.
I’m living in a dream.
Stay silent at least for now, and let me move on.
Cause I’m so done playing these games with my heart
I’ve been around the world and back for you, and now its time to choose.
And I’ll close my eyes, and I’ll dream of a better time
when I’ll finally be past this and I'll be happy on my own.
I’ve done all I can, still the one to been cast aside.
All I ever wanted to be was be the one who’d wipe those tears from your eyes.
But I guess I’ll play second best, to a world that will never care about you.
You’ll never understand you’re just another pretty face
You tell me that you care, and then you run straight back to him.
I can hear your voice of treason from a mile away.
You never did know how to whisper.(whisper, whisPER!)
You're such a liar. Tell me the truth.
You're such a liar. Tell me the truth.
You fuckin' liar. Tell me the truth.
Do the world a favor stop cutting your arms, and slit your throat.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EimXc69Q7h0
For once my eyes are open to you, and everything you’ve said.
For once your web of lies is in the open.
I gave you everything I had, until I had nothing left.
And Still you act as if I’m just a burden.
I’ve finally let go.
Let go
Let go
Stay silent at least for now, and let me move on.
Cause I’m so done playing these games with my heart
I’ve been around the world and back for you, and now its time to choose.
I’ve been swallowed by this wreck that you call your life.
I’m damaged from the inside. I’ve been broken.
Don’t threaten me with what you think I feel.
If you could read my mind you’d be in tears.
I’m sick of your excuses you hold above me.
I’ve finally come to terms with what I am.
I’m nothing in your eyes, this will not change.
I’m living in a dream.
Stay silent at least for now, and let me move on.
Cause I’m so done playing these games with my heart
I’ve been around the world and back for you, and now its time to choose.
And I’ll close my eyes, and I’ll dream of a better time
when I’ll finally be past this and I'll be happy on my own.
I’ve done all I can, still the one to been cast aside.
All I ever wanted to be was be the one who’d wipe those tears from your eyes.
But I guess I’ll play second best, to a world that will never care about you.
You’ll never understand you’re just another pretty face
You tell me that you care, and then you run straight back to him.
I can hear your voice of treason from a mile away.
You never did know how to whisper.(whisper, whisPER!)
You're such a liar. Tell me the truth.
You're such a liar. Tell me the truth.
You fuckin' liar. Tell me the truth.
Do the world a favor stop cutting your arms, and slit your throat.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EimXc69Q7h0
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
"Midnight Regulations" by Alexisonfire
I find myself concerned
For the common man, these days
Evil are the minds
That push the divide
Forced to live a life
In fear that his future is on the wane
Midnight regulations
Midnight regulations
Burns his candle down
Working to make ends meet
Old hearts, we need to mend
It's time to start again
Fingers to the bone
Ready to admit defeat
Midnight regulations
Midnight
Brother! There is no charity
For the common man
When he is in need of relief
And now he's hanging on
To his final stitch of faith
So, here's to all the years
Of deaf ear fallen prayers
Rich men behind closed doors
Try to keep him in his place
Midnight regulations
Midnight regulations
Oh, all you common men
You need to fight for a new way
But what can be done
About the way things have become?
Palace walls dismantled
Brick by brick, you will have your day
Midnight regulations
Midnight
Brother! There is no charity
For the common man
When he is in need of relief
They say just hold onto your hope
But you know if you swallow your pride
You will choke
Brother! There is no charity
For the common man
When he is in need of relief
Midnight regulations
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKjrodVWh30
Sunday, October 18, 2009
I've done something very bad... it seems surreal. IDKWTF to do!
"Side Walk When She Walks" by Alexisonfire
Dressed to kill, you look so right
I am drunk with lust tonight
Your wounds are opening wide
And they might be just my size
Now I'm afraid of open water
But I often bathe in sin
Let's be honest, you know you shouldn't bother
'Cuz with me, it's impossible to win
Dressed to kill, you look so right
I am drunk with lust tonight
Your wounds are opening wide
And they might be just...
There was always
Warmth between us
There was always
Warmth between us
Dressed to kill, you look so right
I am drunk with lust tonight
Your wounds are opening wide
And they might be just my size
Just my size, just my size
Just my size, just my size
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxWFXSUQv0w
"Constant Knot" by City & Colour
How much would you bet
that if I tried hard enough
I would spontaneously combust
I wish I could disappear
and run away from all of my fear
I think I'm coming undone
So stay the night, I promise
that I wont bite, cause without you there
I don't think I could close my eyes
How do I end up this way
a constant knot in my gut
tied with uncertainty and with lust
a classic case I suppose
a haunted man
who cant outrun his ghosts
there in my skin and my bones
So stay the night, I promise
that I wont bite, cause without you there
I don't think I could close my eyes
and now I say..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PtU0iccHpsg
"Death Of Me" by City & Colour
Do I have nothing good left to say?
Do I need whiskey to start fueling my complaints?
People love to drink their troubles away.
Sometimes I feel that I'd be better off that way.
'Cause maybe then I could sleep at night.
I wouldn't lie awake until the morning light.
This is something that I'll never control.
My nerves will be the death of me, I know.
I know, I know.
So here's to living life miserable.
And here's to all the lonely stories that I've told.
Maybe drinking wine will validate my sorrow.
Every man needs a muse and mine could be the bottle.
Maybe then I could sleep at night.
I wouldn't lie awake until the morning light.
This is something that I'll never control.
My nerves will be the death of me, I know.
Finally, I could hope for a better day.
No longer holding on to all the things that cloud my mind.
Maybe then the weight of the world wouldn't seem so heavy.
But then again I'll probably always feel this way.
At least I know I'll never sleep at night. (Sleep at night)
I'll always lie awake until the morning light. (Til the morning light)
This is something that I'll never control.
My nerves will be the death of me.
My nerves will be the death of me.
My nerves will be the death of me, I know.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dO6PzzkrLwQ
"Side Walk When She Walks" by Alexisonfire
Dressed to kill, you look so right
I am drunk with lust tonight
Your wounds are opening wide
And they might be just my size
Now I'm afraid of open water
But I often bathe in sin
Let's be honest, you know you shouldn't bother
'Cuz with me, it's impossible to win
Dressed to kill, you look so right
I am drunk with lust tonight
Your wounds are opening wide
And they might be just...
There was always
Warmth between us
There was always
Warmth between us
Dressed to kill, you look so right
I am drunk with lust tonight
Your wounds are opening wide
And they might be just my size
Just my size, just my size
Just my size, just my size
http://www.youtube.com/wat
"Constant Knot" by City & Colour
How much would you bet
that if I tried hard enough
I would spontaneously combust
I wish I could disappear
and run away from all of my fear
I think I'm coming undone
So stay the night, I promise
that I wont bite, cause without you there
I don't think I could close my eyes
How do I end up this way
a constant knot in my gut
tied with uncertainty and with lust
a classic case I suppose
a haunted man
who cant outrun his ghosts
there in my skin and my bones
So stay the night, I promise
that I wont bite, cause without you there
I don't think I could close my eyes
and now I say..
http://www.youtube.com/wat
"Death Of Me" by City & Colour
Do I have nothing good left to say?
Do I need whiskey to start fueling my complaints?
People love to drink their troubles away.
Sometimes I feel that I'd be better off that way.
'Cause maybe then I could sleep at night.
I wouldn't lie awake until the morning light.
This is something that I'll never control.
My nerves will be the death of me, I know.
I know, I know.
So here's to living life miserable.
And here's to all the lonely stories that I've told.
Maybe drinking wine will validate my sorrow.
Every man needs a muse and mine could be the bottle.
Maybe then I could sleep at night.
I wouldn't lie awake until the morning light.
This is something that I'll never control.
My nerves will be the death of me, I know.
Finally, I could hope for a better day.
No longer holding on to all the things that cloud my mind.
Maybe then the weight of the world wouldn't seem so heavy.
But then again I'll probably always feel this way.
At least I know I'll never sleep at night. (Sleep at night)
I'll always lie awake until the morning light. (Til the morning light)
This is something that I'll never control.
My nerves will be the death of me.
My nerves will be the death of me.
My nerves will be the death of me, I know.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dO6PzzkrLwQ
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
"In Your Words" by Lamb of God
A sacred cash cow with sickly tits
Dripping temptation for hypocrites
To death she's beaten
The prosperous endlessly stating the obvious
Caught in your words sever the knot this time
Somebody show me their true face
Face me once as I leave all that I despise
Face me as I unleash this hate refined
Indict the blameless
Transparent designs
Pathetic and shameless
Crucified
A legend in his own mind, enthroned by lies
A cheap Machiavelli plots his demise
Caught in your words sever the knot this time
Somebody show me their true face
Face me once as I leave all that I despise
Face me as I unleash this hate refined
Face me as I leave all this far behind
Face me as I unleash this hate refined
What once gave life
Now infested with plague
A lamb lies with maggots
Blinded, gagged, betrayed
What once gave life
Now infested with plague
A lamb lies with maggots
The corpse bloated with rage
Music Video
Dripping temptation for hypocrites
To death she's beaten
The prosperous endlessly stating the obvious
Caught in your words sever the knot this time
Somebody show me their true face
Face me once as I leave all that I despise
Face me as I unleash this hate refined
Indict the blameless
Transparent designs
Pathetic and shameless
Crucified
A legend in his own mind, enthroned by lies
A cheap Machiavelli plots his demise
Caught in your words sever the knot this time
Somebody show me their true face
Face me once as I leave all that I despise
Face me as I unleash this hate refined
Face me as I leave all this far behind
Face me as I unleash this hate refined
What once gave life
Now infested with plague
A lamb lies with maggots
Blinded, gagged, betrayed
What once gave life
Now infested with plague
A lamb lies with maggots
The corpse bloated with rage
Music Video
Monday, September 28, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Bleeding Hearts Club (Mpls. Chapter)
I like the way you comb your hair
And I love them stylish clothes you wear
You've got some lights you're down to share
It seems as if you want to care
Good luck; the game you play ain't fair
Still stuck on why you standin' there
We'll keep your name inside the prayer
Tear down that self-made cross you bear
And I love them stylish clothes you wear
You've got some lights you're down to share
It seems as if you want to care
Good luck; the game you play ain't fair
Still stuck on why you standin' there
We'll keep your name inside the prayer
Tear down that self-made cross you bear
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
