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You're not bloody swab paradise
You're golden stars licked to stick
A world with frogs and magic tricks
Floating logs and scissor kicks
And lemonade and sweaty sex
Hug me like I gave you checks
You kiss me like the upper crust
Tell me things to make me blush
Champagne bottle
Bon voyage
A souvenir garage
A melody to make me smile
Not that you've been gone a while
A purple medal eighth place
Backlit in a trophy case
Sign that says "For little Ace"
Supportive like an ankle brace
Not bloody cotton swabs and lies
Stolen checks and empty eyes
You're a county fair in July
Canadian field of wild rye
You kiss me like potted plants
Bite me like fire ants
Touch me like an old stamp
Olive oil and seven lamps
Not stolen cash I'll pay you back
Bloody paradise attack
Your Sunday at the puppy track
Time to take the long way back
Sweet as the apple of Peru
The inklings of the Eastern Sioux
Not bloody cotton swabs and lies
Stolen checks and empty eyes
But rather
You are the blood
Flowing through my fingers
[That's what I meant to say
Blood in my fingertips
I couldn't tell you that it's the other way]
All through the soil and up in those trees
[You are the blood that I may see you
That I see you
You're the blood in me
You're on earth though]
Girl you wake me to the smell of butter
Sunlight shone through wooden shutters
Naked sex and cuffed breast
Early morning back to test
Pouring rain and rubber suit
Cotton socks and rubber boots
I sprint across the parking lot
Cause that day we were unprepared
Dried our socks and on the stairs
Sound of rain is rain in gutters
Lightning seven seconds thunder
A mild snack late evening hunger
DVDs and VCRs
Fish tanks and jelly jars
The storm passes the room ours
The summer times and you move
Safety belt in summer cars
Lightning bugs to die in jars
The air conditioner saving grace
Grass stains and flushed face
Refreshing like a glass of milk
Your shaven legs were like silk
You kiss me like a bon voyage
A secret souvenir collage
Overalls and water parks
T-tops and baby sharks
Dragon rolls and frozen juice
Making out in photo booths
A lovely Saturday night alone
Full of films and baking pies
Not cotton swabs and bloody lies
I'll pay you back in plastic eyes
You are the blood
Flowing through my fingers
All through the soil
Through those trees
You're golden stars licked to stick
A world with frogs and magic tricks
Floating logs and scissor kicks
And lemonade and sweaty sex
Hug me like I gave you checks
You kiss me like the upper crust
Tell me things to make me blush
Champagne bottle
Bon voyage
A souvenir garage
A melody to make me smile
Not that you've been gone a while
A purple medal eighth place
Backlit in a trophy case
Sign that says "For little Ace"
Supportive like an ankle brace
Not bloody cotton swabs and lies
Stolen checks and empty eyes
You're a county fair in July
Canadian field of wild rye
You kiss me like potted plants
Bite me like fire ants
Touch me like an old stamp
Olive oil and seven lamps
Not stolen cash I'll pay you back
Bloody paradise attack
Your Sunday at the puppy track
Time to take the long way back
Sweet as the apple of Peru
The inklings of the Eastern Sioux
Not bloody cotton swabs and lies
Stolen checks and empty eyes
But rather
You are the blood
Flowing through my fingers
[That's what I meant to say
Blood in my fingertips
I couldn't tell you that it's the other way]
All through the soil and up in those trees
[You are the blood that I may see you
That I see you
You're the blood in me
You're on earth though]
Girl you wake me to the smell of butter
Sunlight shone through wooden shutters
Naked sex and cuffed breast
Early morning back to test
Pouring rain and rubber suit
Cotton socks and rubber boots
I sprint across the parking lot
Cause that day we were unprepared
Dried our socks and on the stairs
Sound of rain is rain in gutters
Lightning seven seconds thunder
A mild snack late evening hunger
DVDs and VCRs
Fish tanks and jelly jars
The storm passes the room ours
The summer times and you move
Safety belt in summer cars
Lightning bugs to die in jars
The air conditioner saving grace
Grass stains and flushed face
Refreshing like a glass of milk
Your shaven legs were like silk
You kiss me like a bon voyage
A secret souvenir collage
Overalls and water parks
T-tops and baby sharks
Dragon rolls and frozen juice
Making out in photo booths
A lovely Saturday night alone
Full of films and baking pies
Not cotton swabs and bloody lies
I'll pay you back in plastic eyes
You are the blood
Flowing through my fingers
All through the soil
Through those trees
Lyrics submitted by mctaggey
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Stolen checks and empty eyes". Instead she's all of the beautiful things that he loves about life, eg. "You're a county fair in July, Canadian field of wild rye".
The second verse is a continuation of that, possibly remembering her after she passed.
Flowing through my fingers [That's what I meant to say, blood in my fingertips. I couldn't tell you that it's the other way]"
Maybe the author suffered from an addiction an that's where the cotton swabs and bloody paradise comes in. "Not cotton swabs and bloody lies. I'll pay you back in plastic eyes" is inspired stuff.
Isn't Serengeti rapping and isn't the other vocal part sufjan?
I don't know what the song means, but every time I listen to it I wish it would go on longer.
It's kind of, I guess, to me, this dark train of thought love song. Just this stream of consciousness about this girl.
I didn't think about the AIDS thing.
Fire ant's stings burn, and I think in this case he just means that she stung him the right way when she was with him.
and celiabedelia this track does use the basis of "you are the blood". however this is exactly what you want a remix to be, lyrics added. my guess it's called blood pt.2 for that very reason, with so much added to the original track it's become the sequel rather than a regular remix.
i got from a cold impression that it is about a before and after with someone addicted to heroine, not that there is a double persona as mentioned on one of the previous posts. the singer is choosing to remember his girlfriend with beauty, because he keeps saying "NOT bloody swab paradise..." etc... he describes little beautiful moments that are universal and unexceptional, my favorite being:
A purple medal eighth place
Backlit in a trophy case
Sign that says "For little Ace"
by being a celebration of an eighth place medal it makes it a very personal thing, because he is proud of the very simple accomplishment. Which really is a great example of the moments you miss when someone passes away; it's the little things.
but ya shit i didn't think about the HIV benefit album, which really does add a new element to this doesn't it. for such a powerful song to have it's origin as a remix, and then turn into such beautiful depth amazes.
I know he has a version of it, but it's not his song, it's by a band called The Castanets.
Check it out.
youtube.com/…