| The Mountain Goats – Never Quite Free Lyrics | 12 years ago |
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Just saw The Mountain Goats last week. Darnielle introduced this song by saying that a bunch of folks have told him how much "hope it gives them, which is odd," he said, "because it's about never actually being free from something." God I love The Mountain Goats. |
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| Handsome Furs – Snakes on a Ladder Lyrics | 14 years ago |
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Snakes and Ladders is an old children's game that this song makes me think of. Salmon Rushdie describes it as: All games have morals; and the game of Snakes and Ladders captures, as no other activity can hope to do, the eternal truth that for every ladder you hope to climb, a snake is waiting just around the corner, and for every snake a ladder will compensate. But it's more than that; no mere carrot-and-stick affair; because implicit in the game is unchanging twoness of things, the duality of up against down, good against evil; the solid rationality of ladders balances the occult sinuosities of the serpent; in the opposition of staircase and cobra we can see, metaphorically, all conceivable oppositions, Alpha against Omega, father against mother |
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| Handsome Furs – What We Had Lyrics | 14 years ago |
| It's "I sit outside with the radar", at least according to the liner notes. | |
| Sebadoh – Homemade Lyrics | 14 years ago |
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I've always heard the first line as "Sitting around with my homemade bong" Like, just sitting around getting stoned, then you let your fingers roam and then.... |
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| Swan Lake – Spanish Gold, 2044 Lyrics | 14 years ago |
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LOL. This song is almost impossible to make out. Fortunately the liner notes on the CD have the lyrics. Oh we are nothing: but what our words leave behind are worth the raiment of the sun Sighed Palinurus, humming "Bird on a Wire", eyeing the cloth of the sun Thus we are nothing but what our words leave behind. Thus collect your poetries and incantations and bullets for the blind I haven't read them I will not read them because they dwell too much on signs Thus the desert deserts thee: I left this bullwhip by the nightstand Julliard was a thousand miles ago Where you gonna run when the clouds break? When the sun peaks his eye with attitude and rye, and you're set upon and lost lost feeling that the pain of ages rocks... Hex signifiers, Iambic petra-fiers And Roman Shit that we have left behind I'm gonna plumb the white pages, rocking the pain of ages, looking at your graceless depictions of light though when there is there is nothing left to read there shall be nothing left to write Baby that's when I get on board and drop I left this bullwhip by the nightstand...and Julliard... and your setter drops... feeling that the pain of ages rocks All they own they see! Oh the rain's got to fall |
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