islands in the stream ~ feist & the constantines
"slowly losing sight of the real thing."
one of the best cover songs i've heard in a very long time. the original was never a favorite of mine, reminds me too much of my childhood, and pieces of it that i'd sooner like to forget. but this version takes it apart and puts it back together, turning it into something new, and rather beautiful.
"why should he come back through the park?
you thought that you saw him but no you did not.
it's not him who'd come across,
the sea to surprise you,
not him who would know,
where in london to find you.
with sadness so real that it populates,
the city and leaves you homeless again.
steam from the cup and snow on the path,
the seasons have changed from present to past.
the past,
the past,
turns whole to half,
the past.
why should he come back through the park?
you thought that you saw him but no you did not.
who can be sure of anything through,
the distance that keeps you,
from knowing the truth.
why would you think your boy could become,
the man who could make you sure he was the one?
the one,
my one,
my one."
lover's spit ~ broken social scene (featuring feist)
"all these people drinking lover's spit,
swallowing words while giving head;
they listen to teeth learn how to quit,
to a night they never met.
you know it's time,
that we grow old and do some shit;
i like it all that way."
early mornings with music stuck in my head, and the smell of coffee brewing in the next room. these are stolen moments when words criss-cross and light up my fingertips, while dreams still in their feigned disguises remind me of my hopes and fears. i discovered this song in a found mix, it was hidden amongst the familiar and unknown, the way most beauty is. it reminded me of an afternoon, a saturday, working at tower in chicago. there was this girl who was visiting from new york, and we had one of those conversations usually shared with those people you trust your soul with. but sometimes strangers have that ability to peel back the surfaces, don't they? she laughed and half-whispered a moment shared with a boyfriend she'd recently lost, and i listened. she asked about this band, and i told her i'd only heard them once, in a bookstore in portland, and how the boy behind the counter with the pale blue eyes had told me the name. she bought everything i recommended, laughing at how i now held a secret of hers, so she might as well take back with her the things i sang along to. i have no idea what her name was, but i wrote her into something last night. and this song played, repeated, and played again.
i feel it all ~ feist
"oh i'll be the one who'll break my heart,
i'll be the one to hold the gun.
i love you more.
i love you more.
i don't know what i knew before,
but now i know i wanna win the war."
nabokov's son pushes to release his last work despite his father's dying wish for it to be destroyed; an unfinished novel called 'the original of laura'. it sparks a conversation of how my name has been ever associated with death/dying/loss, because even at the start i was named after a man who falls in love with a dead woman, or who he thinks is dead, laura (1944 film). years later i'll fall for a series all based around the death of a girl found "dead and wrapped in plastic", one laura palmer. i could go on, really i could, but i don't think i want to.
though it is funny to have a new friend tell you she wrote a story with a girl named laura in it, a prostitute, who dies at the end.
today though, in my early attempts to start feeling better, i'd rather concentrate on "winning the war". i don't need my name immortalized, i don't need anymore songs or stories, i just want to be the one falling, the one breaking my own heart, the one holding the gun, as long as i'm being truly alive.
