Two from the brilliant
Jim O'Rourke
Get a room
It's always me in the only seat
That has a canopy
There to screw up the best laid plans
Of those with company
I'd like nothing more to do
Than to watch the desperation on your face
I might send you straight to hell
like it's worse to end up in this place
If I gave you, one night to live
Would you know who to choose to take home
And if she falls asleep before the night is through
Because she has to go to work
And you don't
And the night's getting longer
And your skin's getting colder
And you won't get much older
And you try to move towards her
But you can't move your shoulder
And you're sight's getting dimmer
Maybe if you kick her
But your leg's getting weaker
And she's such a deep sleeper
And you would get a snorer
To share your last hour
You sure picked a winner
And time's seeming slower
And now you can't see her
All you see is a timer
Moving backwards and forwards
And the night's getting longer
And your skin's getting colder
Memory Lane
It's quite a gamble to speak out of place
Those things could kill you but so could your face
What occupies me, pays a low rent
Because fondness makes the heart grow absent
These things I say, may seem kinda cruel
So here's something from my heart to you:
Looking at you, reminds me of looking at the sun
And how the blind are so damn lucky
Those holes on your face could be used better ways
Breathing's a distraction when you chatter away
These things I say, may seem to be lies
To seem risque, or sensationalize
And too many people can remember your name
Always walking you down memory lame
These things I say, may seem to offend
But not half as much, as I'd like to intend
Listening to you, reminds me of
A motor's endless drone
And how the deaf are so damn lucky
I'd be happy, if life came to a stall
Then I wouldn't need my senses at all
These things I say, might seem out of line
But day to day, I'm right every time
looking at you, reminds me of
Looking at the sun
Too long
You'll find
That in no time
You'll be talking to yourself
Along with everybody else
Then you'll despise
The look in their eyes
It may be difficult to tell
If your looking at yourself
And you look fine
If you don't mind
That gaping hole that's on your face
A black hole that's out of place
And out of time
In a tight bind
To find something smart to say
When a silence comes your way
<edit>
And one from Belle and Sebastian
The boy with the arab strap
A mile and a half on a bus takes a long time
The odour of old prison food takes a long time to pass you by
When you've been inside
Day upon day of this wandering gets you down
Nobody gives you a chance or a dollar in this old town
Hovering silence from you is a giveaway
Squalor and smoke's not your style
"I don't like this place"
We better go
Then I compare notes with your older sister
I am a lazy gett, she is as pure as the cold driven snow
She accepts my confession
What did you learn from your time in the solitary
Cell of your mind?
There was noises, distractions from anything good
And the old prison food
Colour my life with the chaos of trouble
Cause anything's better than posh isolation
1 missed the bus
You were laid on your back
With the boy from the arab strap
With the boy from the arab strap
It's something to speak of the way you are feeling
To crowds there assembled
Do you ever feel you have gone too far?
Everyone suffers in silence a burden
The man who drives minicabs down in Old Compton
The Asian man
With his love hate affair
With his racist clientele
A central location for you is a must as you stagger about making free with your lewd and lascivious boasts
We know you are soft cause we've all seen you dancing
We know you are hard cause we all saw you drinking from noon
Until noon again
You're the boy with the filthy laugh
You're the boy with the arab strap
Strapped to the table with suits from the shelter shop
Comic celebrity takes a back seat as the cigarette catches
And sets off the smoke alarm
What do you make of the cool set in London?
You're constantly updating your hit parade of your ten biggest wanks
She's a waitress and she's got style
Sunday bathtime could take a while
---------------
I don't know what to say but things always get better. Stay strong, girl<edit>
[ 09 July 2002: Message edited by: Furnace ]
