Fiona Apple – Fast As You Can

december 11, 2008 kl. 9:54 e m · Filed under Texter, sånger och musik

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DhjmA0wIjOs
I let the beast in too soon, I dont know how to live
Without my hand on his throat; I fight him always & still
O darling, its so sweet, you think you know how crazy
-how crazy I am
You say you dont spook easy, you wont go, but I know
And I pray that you will
-fast as you can, baby run-free yourself of me
Fast as you can
I may be soft in your palm but Ill soon grow
Hungry for a fight, and I will not let you win
My pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will
Disprove your faith in man
So if you catch me trying to find my way into your
Heart from under your skin
-fast as you can, baby scratch me out, free yourself
Fast as you can
Fast as you can, baby scratch me out, free yourself
Fast as you can
Sometimes my mind dont shake and shift
But most of the time, it does
And I get to the place where Im begging for a lift
Or Ill drown in the wonders and the was
And Ill be your girl, if you say its a gift
And you give me some more of your drugs
Yeah, Ill be your pet, if you just tell me its a gift
Cuz Im tired of whys, choking on whys,
Just need a little because, because
I let the beast in and then;
I even tried forgiving him, but its too soon
So Ill fight again, again, again, again, again.
And for a little while more, Ill soar the
Uneven wind, complain and blame
The sterile land
But if youre getting any bright ideas, quiet dear
Im blooming within
Fast as you can, baby wait watch me, Ill be out
Fast as I can, maybe late but at least about
Fast as you can leave me, let this thing
Run its route
Fast as you can (repeat 4 times)

Comments (7)

Blind Melon – No rain

december 11, 2008 kl. 9:35 e m · Filed under Texter, sånger och musik

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qmVn6b7DdpA
 

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain

I like watchin’ the puddles gather rain

And all I can do is just pour some tea for two

and speak my point of view

But it’s not sane, It’s not sane

I just want some one to say to me

I’ll always be there when you wake

Ya know I’d like to keep my cheeks dry today

So stay with me and I’ll have it made

And I don’t understand why I sleep all day

And I start to complain that there’s no rain

And all I can do is read a book to stay awake

And it rips my life away, but it’s a great escape

escape……escape……escape……

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain

ya don’t like my point of view

ya think I’m insane

Its not sane……it’s not sane

Kommentarer

Tony Orlando & Dawn-Tie a Yellow Ribbon

december 10, 2008 kl. 9:18 e m · Filed under Texter, sånger och musik

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NCZ4l8FCFc

Jag vet, jag vet, den här sången handlar inte om att komma hem från slutenvården, men eftersom Yellow ribbon också används som en symbol för suicidprevention så tycker jag att den här sången kan få vara här, för även om vi inte är borta i tre år, så finns risken att den vi älskar kanske inte orkar…

I’m comin’ home, I’ve done my time
Now I’ve got to know what is and isn’t mine
If you received my letter telling you I’d soon be free
Then you’ll know just what to do
If you still want me
If you still want me
Whoa, tie a yellow ribbon ‘round the old oak tree
It’s been three long years
Do ya still want me?
If I don’t see a ribbon round the old oak tree
I’ll stay on the bus
Forget about us
Put the blame on me
If I don’t see a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree

Bus driver, please look for me
‘cause I couldn’t bear to see what I might see
I’m really still in prison
And my love, she holds the key
A simple yellow ribbon’s what I need to set me free
I wrote and told her please

Whoa, tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree
It’s been three long years
Do ya still want me?
If I don’t see a ribbon round the old oak tree
I’ll stay on the bus
Forget about us
Put the blame on me
If I don’t see a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree

Now the whole damned bus is cheerin’
And I can’t believe I see
A hundred yellow ribbons round the old oak tree

I’m comin’ home

(Tie a ribbon round the old oak tree)

Kommentarer

Don McLean-Starry, starry night

december 10, 2008 kl. 9:10 e m · Filed under Texter, sånger och musik

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFxhI_NgNBU

Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer’s day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can’t forget.
Like the strangers that you’ve met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will…

Jag övervägde faktiskt att inte lägga ut det här klippet, trots att jag tycker att det är en intressant sång och trots att jag verkligen gillar bilderna som valts ut. Orsaken är att jag mår fysiskt illa när självmord ursäktas med att den döda var för fin för att leva. Ett självmord är inget för den finkänsliga, det är att spola ner sitt liv på toaletten, tillsammans med blodet, bajset, sveken och fegheten.

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