Friday, November 13, 2009

Okkervil River: Unless It's Kicks

What gives this mess some grace unless it's kicks, man
Unless it's fictions
Unless it's sweat or it's songs

What hits against this chest unless it's a sick man's hand
From some mid-level band
He's been driving too long

On a dark windless night
With the stereo on
With the towns flying by
And the ground getting soft

And the sound in the sky
Come down from above
It surrounds you and sighs
And it's whispering, oh

What pulls your body down,
that is quicksand
So climb out quick,
hand over hand
before your mouth's all filled up

What picks you up from down unless it's tricks, man
When I've been fixed, I am convinced that I will not get so broke up again

And on a seven day high
That heavenly song
Punches right through my mind
And pumps through my blood

And I know it's a lie
But I still give my love
Hey my hearts on the line
For your hands to pluck up
What gives this mess some grace unless it's fictions
Unless it's licks, man
Unless it's lies or it's love

What breaks this heart the most is the ghost of some rock and roll fan
Exploding up from the stands
With her heart opened up
And I want to tell her,
Your love isn't lost
My heart is still crossed
You're so wonderful
What a dream in the dark
About working so hard
About glowing so stoned
Trying not to turn off
Trying not to believe in the lies
On your own
La la la la
Ohhh oh ohh

Monday, November 9, 2009

Okkervil River: Starry Stairs

They ask for more
What do you think this fan club is for?
I slithered up each rose corridor
I kept a warm, safe place at my core
Before I lost it

They ask for blood
What do you think this woman's made of?
I stuck a small, thin pin in my thumb
They dreamt a low, long line to be crossed
And I crossed it

I'm alive
But a different kind of alive
Than the way I used to be

I retire to a split, white smile to be seen
In some old stag magazine
And this girl's eyes, when they were roughly wrenched open
I could see a starry stair up your thigh
You hid behind your hair
Oh, but I saw you smiling
While all these guys, all these curious sets of eyes
Safe behind a tv screen
I let them pry, pick apart and hang up to dry almost every piece of me

If you don't love me, I'm sorry

Oh, what a trip
Oh, what a shimmering silver ship
Oh, what a hot half-life I half lived
Oh, and the stripes and stars, how they stripped off the siding
When my life ripped
Off from the part that played as a kid
Into the part that plays through your lips
To find a warm, safe place and sit curled up inside it

So, here's goodbye
From the part that's staying behind
To the part that has to leave
To the sublime lips that were never spoiled by lying
But to the face inside the being
Who wasn't me
Who wasn't me
Oh, no, no
She's not me
Oh, oh

blog archive

This template made by and copyright Christine's Blog Templates.