Lyrics that just refuse to leave my Head.
There are times when you listen to a song, then you listen to it some more. And then it just refuses to leave your head. Haunted by the song(rather the tune and a few scattered words), you go googling and hunt down the lyrics just to find out even more reasons not to shift+delete it from your cerebral archive. You sing-along with it, it makes you wiser, it gives you the gooseflesh. Its worth the effort to gather the bits and pieces of these songs, because they are not just that, but fragments of our memories attached to it.
'Cause I am hanging on every word you say
And even if you don't want to speak tonight
That's alright, alright with me. . . .
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit
Outside your door and listen to you breathing
Is where I want to be.
- Breathing(Lifehouse)
I found this song at a strange point of my life. The lyrics ironically reflected my own condition and my own desires. When I was realizing that "i've-been-here-before" incidents are not just deja-vus, but one life's pattern coming in full circle. I was starting to recognize my own life's chaotic but predictive pattern, and getting ready to write my own prophecies.
'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I come in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
"Come in," she said,"I'll give you shelter from the storm."
And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.
"Come in," she said,"I'll give you shelter from the storm."
- Shelter from the Storm(Bob Dylan)
. . . And thus Eve was created from the Third rib of Adam. My ass. If this myth was indeed true, then I have to admit that the third rib of Adam was a spectacularly exceptional artifact. But it contradicts the very fact. If One rib can create a creature as divine as woman, then how come the brain gets all the dirty work?! And all the hapless rib does is to absorb friendly nudges from his fellow drunk homies. A flight of fantasy, I must say. This song is a subtle and to some extent biblically inclined ode to the greatest beauty on earth, womanhood.
Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The wise man will bow down before the throne
And at His feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the Man comes around
Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still
Listen to the words long written down
When the Man comes around
- When the man comes around.(Johnny Cash)
When I see the dust flying off the ground with every breathe of mine, I realize that I have fallen, on my face. This song speaks about him who rides their crazy horses, and leashes them. And when he's gone, they wait for him to come back, and take the world on his shoulder. So that they can live in peace, beneath his shadow. And he offers me a hand to get up and start walking, again.
Where are you going? Where do you go?
Are you lookin' for answers to questions under the stars?
Well if along the way you are growing weary, you can rest with me
Until a brighter day when you're ok.
- Where are you going?(Dave Matthews Band)
The power of unconditional love. Really really stupid stuff. Good for nothing. The worst magic Lily Potter could have ever given to Harry. Messes your brain up like a psycho monkey on your office desk. But there's only one problem, the power knows no bounds.
Nobody else here baby
No one here to blame
No one to point the finger
Its just you and me and the rain
Nobody made you do it
No one put words in your mouth
Nobody here taking orders
When love took a train heading south
Hey if God will send his angels
And if God will send a sign
And if God will send his angels
Would everything be alright?. . . . .
- If God will send His Angels(U2)
What are your friends and family for?. . .I mean other than to be with you through your ups and downs and the flatlands . . .they are there to crib and listen to you crib. Its a beautiful symbiotic relation. The rambling always goes up the food chain, not the other way round, as Capt. John Miller(Saving Private Ryan) once mentioned while walking through the scenic meadows of Normandy. No human can live without it, irrespective of your tag of a believer or an atheist. This song was one of the first of its kind(I mean the lyrical ones) that really made me think. Think about what's happening around us, and more importantly, inside us. Will it really make a difference if He does picks up the phone? Will world be a better(again, a relative term) place if He starts answering our prayers? Or maybe He IS answering our prayers, just the wrong ones. This is a war with no enemies, no sides involved. Then who's fighting whom? That is something for us to find out, as we walk along our respective paths leading to the same station. Maybe one day, we will be able to answer our own prayers . . . . maybe.
Staring at a million city lights
But it's still Penny and I all alone beneath the sky
Feel the wind brushing slowly by
If I could soar I would try, to take these wings and fly
Away to where the leaves turn red
But no matter where I am instead
Singin' along to feeling alright
We'll make it by in the pink moonlight
It's always Penny and me tonight
Cause' Penny and Me like to roll the windows down
Turn the radio up, push the pedal to the ground
And Penny and Me like to gaze at starry skies
Close our eyes, pretend to fly
It's always Penny and me tonight
Penny likes to get away
And drown her pain, in lemonade
Penny dreams of rainy days
And nights up late, by the fireplace
And aimless conversations bout' the better days. . . .
- Penny and Me(Hanson)
One of my favourites. Callow and utopic. Pecisely why my favourite.
First time when your heartbeat seems to be controlled by her presence in the room rather than by you. With much confusion you enter the forbidden bubble-gummy gooey trance.
And then its time for the crash. Its deep. Its bad. Its red. The gum balloon has inflated too far.
So what do you do? . . . spit it out or keep chewing it till you're ready for the next bubble?
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
- Like a Rollin' Stone(Rolling Stones)
So how does it feel?. . .to walk in circles?. . .to keep running till the road ends?
What goes around comes around goes around comes around . . .
What would you do if you realize that you're not afraid of anything in this world?
Well, I am an idiot walking a tightrope of fortune and fame
I am an acrobat swinging trapezes through circles of flame
If you've never stared off in the distance, then your life is a shame
And though I'll never forget your face, sometimes I can't remember my name
Well, there's a piece of Maria in every song that I sing
And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings
And there is always one last light to turn out and one last bell to ring
And the last one out of the circus has to lock up everything
- Mrs Potters's Lullaby(Counting Crows)
An exceptionally sensible song of the modern times. Talking about everyday mundane lives through metaphor and allegory. There's a part of everyone's lives in the song. Distantly close.
posted by emeraldpond at 10:19 PM
3 comments
