fredag 26 november 2010

Sarah wrote epistles on the subject of despair
on the only night last year when there was no love in the air.
Listen friend she wrote, and I heard her pen cry before it broke.
Who are we and why,
oh why, can't we behave?
We are good people, aren't we?
Do you know?

Jon-jon had surprising eyes and narrow black suede shows,
a war to fight in Paris and a sister with the blues.
Pusique ton papa est en voyage,
you've heard your mother making.
Love is not what we are Jon-jon,
you and I are rats at cupids table but we're fine.


In the darkest corner of a downstairs gathering
ladybirds and pirate cowboys, made up, conversing.
Islands sinking from musicians, bedtime stories, York Magicians.
But you don't have to worry, darling.
Frozen hearts leave seetrough scarring
and no one else will know unless you tell.


Drink to ghosts of past years' catastrophic love affairs,
to robes of red and silver tales worn thin from too much care.
Comfort doesn't always come in glasses,
but perhaps tonight I won't be the only one with blue headlights.


Come on ladies, take your love to town
pick it up boys, take your love to town.
Everybody, take your love to town.
Shout out Louds

1 kommentar:

  1. Today it snowed for the first time this winter... it's not cold enough to last long though.
    Glad you like the pic :-) And music... most people I know don't like the music I listen to... if only they knew what they're missing :-)

    Great lyrics... gonna listen to that song on youtube right now :-)

    SvaraRadera