I Could Blow Through the Ceiling

"I don't want to be crippled cracked
Shoulders, wrists, knees and back
Ground to dust and ash
Crawling on all fours

When you've got to feel it in your bones
When you've got to feel it in your bones

Now I can't climb the stairs
Pieces missing everywhere
Prozak painkillers

When you've got to feel it in your bones
When you've got to feel it in your bones
And I used to fly like Peter Pan
All the children flew when I touched their hands

When you've got to feel it in your bones
When you've got to feel it in your bones"



Radiohead, again. And a photo by my friend Erin. Stolen via the Interwebs.

My stupid sofa...and to her credit, despite my obsessive-compulsive Virgo nature, perfectly symmetrical.

Bravo, Erin!!!

Where Do We Go From Here?

"You can force it but it will not come
You can taste it but it will not form
You can crush it but it's always here
You can crush it but it's always near
Chasing you home saying
Everything is broken
Everyone is broken

You can force it but it will stay stung
You can crush it as dry as a bone
You can walk it home straight from school
You can kiss it, you can break all the rules
But still...
Everything is broken
Everyone is broken

Everyone is, everyone is broken
Everyone is, everything is broken

Why can't you forget?"

Carolyn. And Radiohead.

"Talking to my girlfriend waiting for something to happen..."

Full To The Point of Overflowing

"While you make pretty speeches
I'm being cut to shreds
You feed me to the lions
A delicate balance

And this just feels like spinning plates
I'm living in cloud cuckoo land
And this just feels like spinning plates
Our bodies floating down the muddy river"

Radiohead live and glistening. Transcendent. Beautiful. Deadly. Perfect...

Listen.

A Song About Me

Courtesy Thom Yorke, God bless his little marsupial self.

Cristi, again.

"What will grow crooked you can't make straight
It's the price that you've gotta pay
Do yourself a favour and pack you bags
Buy a ticket and get on the train

'Cause this is fucked up, fucked up

People get crushed like biscuit crumbs
And laid down in the bed you've made
You have tried your best to please everyone
But it just isn't happening
No, it just isn't happening

And that is fucked up, fucked up
Well this is fucked up, fucked up

This your blind spot, blind spot
It should be obvious, but it's not
But it isn't, but it isn't

You cannot kickstart a dead horse
You just cross yourself and walk away
I don't care what the future holds
'Cause i'm right here and I'm today
With your fingers you can touch me

I am your black swan, black swan
But I made it to the top
And this is fucked up, fucked up
Be a black swan, black swan
And for spare parts
We're broken up

You are fucked up
Fucked up
This is fucked up
Fucked up
We are black swans
Black swans
And for spare parts
We're broken up"

There's Always Another Point of View

Old Enough

"You look pretty in your fancy dress
But I detect unhappiness
You never speak so I have to guess
You’re not free.

There, maybe when you’re old enough
You’ll realize that you’re not so tough
And some days the seas get rough
And you’ll see

You’re too young to have it figured out
You think you know what you’re talking about
You think it all will work itself out
But we’ll see

When I was young I thought I knew
You probably think you know too
Do you? Well do you?
I was naïve just like you
I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to do
Well, what you gonna do?

And how have you gotten by so far
Without having a visible scar?
No one knows who you really are
They can’t see

What you gonna do?
What you gonna do now?

The only way you’ll ever learn a thing
Is to admit that you know absolutely nothing
Oh, nothing
Think about this carefully
You might not get another chance to speak freely
Oh, freely

Maybe when you’re old enough
You’re not free."

From the new The Raconteurs album, "Consolers Of The Lonely."

I'm lonely.

The photo is Lessie Cameron Graham, who passed away September 4th, 2005, at the age of 93.

She knew everything. And she was free.

Another Black Day