song for sad thursday

red house painters

"Uncle Joe"
-----------
Where have all the people gone in my life
I'm looking at the ceiling with an awful feeling of loss and of loneliness
The after late night television pain, I'm running out of strength
I'm running, running, running out of strength

And it feels so wonderful
To swim in our fears
And divide inseparable
The awakening of life

Oh, Uncle Joe, could you tell me about what you know?
Of being having mental problems and their solutions, too
I'll give anything a try once
I'll try anything three times
I don't care, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care

But there's no company
That can stand to be with me
So my dependency on you grows
And I am not very well read
And consider I will lose my heart
And can you spare me of my pain
Can't you spare me of my tears?

Oh, Uncle Joe
Uncle Joe
Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe

And suicide's intentional
When I spin in your fear
I am over-influenced
By movies
And you should've gone
To the fear
To my hope
The darkest hope
Did you know?
Lies become the sky
That's all gone
To the fear
To my hope
The darkest hope
Do you know?
Lies become the sky

images, song, and lyrics

wise up
aimee mann

It’s not what you thought
When you first began it
You got what you want
Now you can hardly stand it though
By now you know it's not
Going to stop
It’s not going to stop
It’s not going to stop
‘Til you wise up

You’re sure there’s a cure
And you have finally found it
You think one drink
Will shrink you ‘til
You’re underground and living down
But it’s not going to stop
It’s not going to stop
It’s not going to stop
‘Til you wise up

Prepare a list of what you need
Before you sign away the deed
'Cause it's not going to stop
It’s not going to stop
It’s not going to stop
‘Til you wise up

No it’s not going to stop
‘Til you wise up
No it’s not going to stop

So just give up

hump day video with better than ezra

Juicy

Here We Go
I got with somebody's date
You're like a soap Opera cover
My lover self-automates
Juicy
Aw, Juicy

You say a-somebody say
You're like a salve for a leper
You're sweet for somebody's pain
Juicy
Aw, juicy
Aw, juicy

Yeah, you got to live for your own
You say you got all the sordid details
Check-out retail
Watch it sell
Now juicy
Aw, juicy

I gotta delay...

Mothers, children on the street
Can't get enough to eat
Off the record, dishes fly
Don't know the reason why
Meet me in the check out stand
See who can be the lover man
Conscience bleeding in a song
Guilty as the day is long
Goodbye

Yeah, you got to live for your own
You say you got all the sordid details
Check-out retail
Watch it sell
I got to see that lie
You say what you're going to say
You got to know it's a bitter poison
Sapping all of your soul away

Yeah, aw juicy
Juicy
Aw juicy
Aw juicy
Aw, ooh, aw, ooh, yeah yeah yeah
Juicy

New Beirut video- Postcards from Italy. Director Alma Har'el

Beirut - Postcards From Italy Lyrics

The times we had
Oh, when the wind would blow with rain and snow
Were not all bad
We put our feet just where they had, had to go
Never to go

The shattered soul
Following close but nearly twice as slow
In my good times
There were always golden rocks to throw
at those who admit defeat too late
Those were our times, those were our times

And I will love to see that day
That day is mine
When she will marry me outside with the willow trees
And play the songs we made
They made me so
And I would love to see that day
Her day was mine

sunday afternoon lyrics

well, i am not technologically savey so at this time i cannot incorporate music on this blog...hopefully one day i will be able to. until then i'm introducing lyrics. the lyrics to the song "something that you said" is sung by one of my favorite groups of all time _the beautiful south_ from their album _0898_. for you eighties music junkies _the beautiful south_ is made up of former members of _the housemartins_ another one of my favorite groups that i like a lot (anj, i remembered the space between the "a" and the "l" this time lol). anyway, words are important...while many people privilege the music over the words i thought i would mix it up a little and do the opposite...not that the music is any less important...it's just a matter of emphasis.

Something That You Said
(heaton/rotheray)

The perfect love song it has no words it only has death threats
And you can tell a classic ballad by how threatening it gets
So if you walk into your house and she’s cutting up your mother
She’s only trying to tell you that she loves you like no other
No other, she loves you like no other.

The only emotions that I know are love and hate
And she’s chopping & she’s changing & it’s making you afraid
I said close your eyes and imagine that I’m nice
She’ll kiss you or she’ll kill you but you’ll just have to wait

Because some things that I do make you go blue
And something that you said made me go red

The perfect love has no emotions, it only harbours doubt
And if she fears your intentions she will cut you out
So do not raise your voice and do not shake your fist
Just pass her the carving knife, if that’s what she insists
Insists, if that’s what she insists

A hate tattoo on my brain and a love one on my heart
I'd love to hate you, like I love you
And just tear your dreams apart
I said close your eyes and imagine that I’m nice
Cupid’s arrow looking more like cupids poisoned dart

Because some things that I do make you go blue
And something that you said made me go red

Because some things that I do make you go blue
And something that you said made me go red

The perfect kiss is dry as sand and doesn’t take your breath
The perfect kiss is with the boy that you’ve just stabbed to death

Is with the boy that you’ve just stabbed to death
Is with the boy that you’ve just stabbed to death

the persistence of narration

I used to be lunatic
From the gracious days
I used to be woebegone
And so restless nights
My aching heart would bleed
For you to see
Oh but now...(I dont find myself bouncing home whistling Buttonhole tunes to make me cry)
No more I love yous
The language is leaving me
No more I love yous
The language is leaving me in silence
Changes are shifting outside the word

--Annie Lennox




this isn't sophistry, a plea for understanding, or even voice. recently, i have had contact with a past love. actually he was my first love. i have known him since the 8th grade. i have been narrating him for so long and hard in an attempt to write him out of my life that i have inadvertently stitched him into my being. a psychic tattoo that i try to rub off...but my efforts only seem to create and recreate more words, more narration, more dark circles of melancholy sutured to memories of the past that somehow follow me into my future... skipping ahead of me, even. and i follow like some stupidly naive puppy. i know better. i should know better. i can recognize this for what it is but still it does not stop me from continuously, somehow, loving him. my heart is rooted in this soil. my brain is somehow disconnected from the rest of my body....it tells my body one thing but my body doesn't listen. i use the tools available to me. i use anti-depressants, i use sex and other significant relationships, i use kristeva, i use butler, i use derrida, i even use foucault (although he could care less) and on occasion i have even used the/a goddess but still my heart's roots insist upon this anchoring that is terrible and mean.
i do not like this kind of love. i do not wish to narrate it anymore. it is obsessive and cruel. it clothes itself in an unrequited-ness, always incomplete yet circular and mimetic. i have always been caught within this web. it is a disappointing love that you get used to...which in its incompleteness creates a different kind of disappointment....not new, or easy but instead a disappointment of a much deeper kind. this love reflects back to me and also reflects itself within my other relationships. it is jealous and difficult; this love is dark red and it flows still. i do not want this love anymore but there is a resignation that is stained by its flowing. this love is one sided and it has really nothing to do with him and, at the same time everything to do with him. it casts a deep shadow that is mingled with nostalgia and memories that i try to name and make real so that i can exorcise them from myself, to cast them away, to abject them..but yet they still remain unnameable, solid, and insistent. a boomerang that i throw away from myself but returns, always. i see this love in my other relationships. i try to stop it but the same scenario announces itself clothed in the same nuances that i can recognize...that i am alone and waiting, in the dark, for this love to return. this love leaves me tired and broken, it sabotages my other relationships so that i am solitary; this love is not for sharing, it is "thick" and suffocating. how do you rewrite that? this isn't just an object, lost or otherwise, but the nature of the object...it's physics...how do you renarrate that? how do you rewrite a law? when the boomerang completes its circle how do i not occupy the space of its destination? i have never had the chance to start over.