Sonnet
I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling finger-tips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!
There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.
1928
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SOTD: Jump Little Children
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She wore out the feeling
With a tender killing
She paid for the blackout
I saw it rolling in.
Was I, was I
Watching over you, or
Watching you fall apart.
Did I, did I lend a hand to hold you down
Or just a hand to hold?
Did I, did I pull the wool over your eyes
Or keep you from the cold?
She came with a warning
She left with the morning
An eye on the doorway
A scar in the early light.
Was I, was I
Hanging on a word
Or was I just a messenger.
Did I, did I lend a hand to hold you down
Or just a hand to hold?
Did I, did I pull the wool over your eyes
Or keep you from the cold?
And every look upon your face
There was an element of grace
Did I read between the lines
Or erase?
Did I, did I lend a hand to hold you down
Or just a hand to hold?
Did I, did I pull the wool over your eyes
Or keep you from the cold?
Did I, did I?
Did I, did I?
Did I, did I?
Did I, did I lend a hand to hold you down
Or just a hand to hold?
SOTD: Murray Head
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Bangkok, oriental setting
And the city don’t know that the city is getting
The creme de la creme of the chess world
In a show with everything but Yul Brynner
Time flies, doesn’t seem a minute
Since the Tirolean spa had the chess boys in it
All change, don’t you know
That when you play at this level there’s no ordinary venue
It’s Iceland or the Philippines or Hastings
Or, or this place
One night in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster
The bars are temples but the pearls ain’t free
You’ll find a God in every golden cloister
And if you’re lucky then the God’s a she
I can feel an angel sliding up to me
One town’s very like another
When your head’s down over your pieces, brother
(It’s a drag, it’s a bore, it’s really such a pity)
(To be looking at the board, not looking at the city)
What d’ya mean
You seen one crowded, polluted, stinking town
(Tea, girls, warm and sweet, sweet)
(Some are set up in the Somerset Maugham suite)
Get Thai’d! You’re talking to a tourist
Whose every move’s among the purest
I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine
One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can’t be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walking next to me
Siam’s gonna be the witness
To the ultimate test of cerebral fitness
This grips me more than would
A muddy old river or reclining Buddha
Thank God I’m only watching the game, controlling it
I don’t see you guys rating
The kind of mate I’m contemplating
I’d let you watch, I would invite you
But the queens we use would not excite you
So you better go back to your bars, your temples
Your massage parlors
One night in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster
The bars are temples but the pearls ain’t free
You’ll find a God in every golden cloister
A little flesh, a little history
I can feel an angel sliding up to me
One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can’t be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walking next to me
SOTD: Josh Ritter
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You must be living on wildfires
You must be living on wildfires
That’s why your eyes
Are smoke and ash
You must be living on earthquakes
You must be living on earthquakes
Must be why my heart breaks
Every time you pass
Oh no matter how I try
I just watch you blow by
In a laugh
You must be living on front lines
You must be living on front lines
Must be why sometimes
I can’t get past
You must be living on land mines
You must be living on land mines
Must be why you’re crying
Broken glass
Well no matter how I try
I gotta watch you blow by
In a laugh
With all your living on landslides
With all your living on flood tides
It’s a wonder how you rise
Above all that
Well no matter how I try
I gotta watch you blow by
In a laugh
Yeah no matter how I try
I gotta watch you blow by
In a laugh
And Sometimes..
..I ignore my blog completely for more than a month. Let’s be honest, it is intentional. It isn’t truly a blog anyway. Right?
But there’s a reason you come here. I’m here because I own the place. I keep house, maintain the ambience, manage utilities, blah blah. My presence is required. But you, you’re a guest. Your presence here is optional. If you don’t want to come here, you don’t have to.
So maybe you’re here because you compulsively tap every link that makes its way into your social feed. Or maybe you’re here because you’re so deprived of invites to the newest, hottest and most exclusive social music clubs on the Internets that this is your only source for music discovery. That would truly be a sad state of affairs, my friend. (Btw, if we’re friends on Facebook, you can totally get in on turntable.fm. You’re welcome.)
Or maybe you come here on your own, “just to see”. But to see what?
Conscious or not, you’re looking for something. A minute ago, you were somewhere else, looking. Right now, you’re here. Looking. Maybe you play a few seconds of the song, maybe you read the lyrics, maybe the photos make sense and maybe they don’t. Maybe you’re reading between lines, or maybe you’re just killing time. Maybe..
So what are you looking for? And what makes you think you’re going to find it here?
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