Posts Tagged ‘bright eyes’

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Road to Joy – Bright Eyes

March 16, 2009

The sun came up with no conclusions
Flowers sleeping in their beds
The city cemetery’s humming
I’m wide awake, it’s morning

I have my drugs, I have my woman
They keep away my loneliness
My parents, they have their religions
But sleep in seperate houses

I read the body count out of the paper
And now it’s written all over my face
No one ever plans to sleep out in the gutter
Sometimes that’s just the most comfortable place

So I’m drinking, breathing, writing, singing
Every day I’m on the clock
My mind races with all my longings
But can’t keep up with what I got

I hope I don’t sound too ungratefull
Well, history gave modern man
A telephone to talk to strangers
Machine guns and a camera lens

So when you’re asked to fight a war that’s over nothing
It’s best to join the side that’s going to win
No one’s sure how all of this got started
But we’re going to make them ***damn certain how it’s gonna end
Oh yeah we will, oh yeah, we will!

I could have been a famous singer
If I had someone else’s voice
But failure’s always sounded better
Let’s **** it up boys, make some noise!

N.B.
This gives me chills. One day I want to be able say “I’m wide awake, it’s morning.”

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When The Curious Girl Realizes She’s Under Glass – Bright Eyes

March 9, 2009

Tomorrow when I wake up I’m finding my brother
and making him take me back down to the water.
That lake where we sailed and laughed with our father.
I will not desert him. I will not desert him.

No matter how I may wish for a coffin so clean
or these trees to undress all their leaves onto me.
I put my face in the dirt and then finally I see
the sky that has been avoiding me.

I started this letter I’m going to send it to Ruba.
It will be blessed by her eyes on the gulf coast of Florida.
With her feet in the sand and one hand on her swimsuit,
she will recite the prayer of my pen.

Saying, time take us forward. Relief from this longing,
they can land that plane on my heart I don’t care
just give me November, the warmth of a whisper
in the freezing darkness of my room.

But no matter what I would do in an attempt
to replace all the pills that I take trying to balance my brain.
I have seen the curious girl with that look on her face.
So surprised she stares out from her display case.

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True Blue – Bright Eyes

February 24, 2009

I am a blueblood, I will admit that
I dance in blue shoes and wear a blue hat
Live in a blue house on a blue street
In a blue town by a blue creek
I write my blue songs with my blue pen
I sing the blue notes to my blue friends
Now I don’t know that much about you
But I like you, because you’re true blue

I had a blue dream about a blue star
In it I drove there in my blue car
And when I got there, I met a blue dog
With a blue tongue, we had some real fun

We bounced a blue ball, it broke a blue glass
We banged on blue drums and called it bluegrass
Guess the thing I’m trying to tell you that
It is best, kid, if you’re true blue

Once I had gangrene, I had it real bad
And so the Doc came with his black bag
I said, “You know Doc, I don’t feel swell
If you had a blue bag, I think I’d get well”

So he came right back with a blue sack
He said, “will this do?”
I said, “why not, yeah”
That is how I am here today to tell you
That it is best man, to be true blue

Out on a blue sea, I sailed a blue ship
I had a first mate, always had blue lips
His name was Bluebeard, he had a weird twitch
We flew a blue flag up on a big stick

And we ate bluegill, and we ate blue chips
Oh, I felt real blue, eating that blue fish
Because there ain’t much, that I won’t do
Unless it keeps me from being true blue

Once in a blue moon there is a blue sky
I wear my blue jeans and fly my blue kite
It hangs like a bluebird until the wind dies
And then the tears pour out of my blue eyes

If it is your birthday, we’ll bake a blue cake
And the we’ll eat it off these blue plates
Because kid, I don’t know much about you
But I like you because you’re true blue

Yeah I don’t know much about you
But I like you cause you’re true blue!

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I’ve Been Eating For You – Bright Eyes

November 11, 2008

So I’m just a medicine,
you take when you’re sick.
You get well and that’s it.
I’m put back
on the shelf in your mirror.
And, it isn’t exceptional,
the course of our fate
because people love and they hate.
And, I guess
it’s just our turn to hate.
Yeah, you were just some song I wrote,
a poem on a page,
a sculpture I made,
out of clay.
Desire was the flame.
But, now you’re more of a basketball.
Boys just pass you around.
They bounce you hard on the ground
and dribble.
Then, we all get high fives.
And, you think I’m an a**hole now.
Well, you’re probably right.
But, at least I’m not blind to the facts
I’ve been wishing were all lies.
But, still I hope you get everything
that you care to possess
and unbelievable sex
with him,
or any one of my friends.
But, just don’t ask about my appetite.
I didn’t lose it tonight.
It’s been gone half my life.
It’s just, I
I’ve been eating for you.

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Easy/Lucky/Free – Bright Eyes

September 1, 2008

Did it all get real, I guess it’s real enough
They got refrigerators full of blood
Another century spent pointing guns
At anything that moves
Sometimes I worry that I’ve lost the plot
My twitching muscles tease my flippant thoughts
I never really dreamed of heaven much
Until we put him in the ground

But it’s all I’m doing now
Listening for patterns in the sound
Of an endless static sea
But once the satellite’s deceased
It blows like garbage through the streets
Of the night sky to infinity

But don’t you weep (don’t you weep for them)
Don’t you weep (don’t you weep)
There is nothing as lucky
Honey, don’t you weep (don’t you weep for them)
Don’t you weep (don’t you weep)
There is nothing as lucky, as easy, or free

Don’t be a criminal in this police state
You better shop and eat and procreate
You got vacation days then you might escape
To a condo on the coast

I set my watch to the atomic clock
I hear the crowd count down til the bomb gets dropped
I always figured there’d be time enough
I never let it get me down

But I can’t help it now
Looking for faces in the clouds
I got some friends I barely see
But we’re all planning to meet
We’ll lay in bags as dead as leaves
All together for eternity

But don’t you weep (don’t you weep for them)
Don’t you weep (don’t you weep)
There is no one as lucky
Honey, don’t you weep (don’t you weep for them)
Don’t you weep (don’t you weep)
There is nothing as lucky, as easy, or free
Or free, or free, or free
There’s nothing, there’s nothing, there’s nothing.

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Make A Plan To Love Me – Bright Eyes

May 30, 2008

I heard you’re scheming new pyramids
Another big idea to get you rich
Make a plan to love me sometime soon

You said you had your foot in the door
You buy and you sell, you buy some more
Make a plan to love me sometime soon

Life is too short
Death doesn’t ask
It don’t owe you that

Some things you lose
You don’t get back
So just know what you have

And make a plan to love me sometime soon

First you want to ride off into the Sun

Then you want to shoot straight to the Moon
Make a plan to love me sometime soon

When you are young the world is a Ferris Wheel
I know we will grow old it is lovely, still
Make a plan to love me sometime soon

Life is too short
To be a fool
I don’t owe you that

Do what you feel
Whatever is cool
But I just have to ask

Will you make a plan to love me?
Will you make a plan to love me?
Will you make a plan to love me sometime soon?

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Waste of Paint – Bright Eyes

January 16, 2008

Waste Of Paint

Bright Eyes

I have a friend, he is mostly made of pain.
And he wakes up, drives to work,
and then straight back home again.
He once cut one of my nightmares out of paper.
I thought it was beautiful, I put it on a record cover.
And I tried to tell him he had a sense
of color and composition so magnificent.
And he said
“Thank you, please but your flattery
is truly not becoming me.
Your eyes are poor. You’re blind.
You see,no beauty could have come from me.
I’m a waste of breath,of space,of time.”

I knew a woman, she was dignified and true.
And her love for her man was one of her many virtues.
Until one day, she found out that he had lied
and she decided the rest of her life from that point on would be a lie.
But she was grateful for everything that had happened.
And she was anxious for all that would come next.
But then she wept. What did you expect?
In that big, old house with the cars she kept.
“And such is life,” she often said.
With one day leading to the next,
you get a little closer to your death,
which was fine with her.
She never got upset
and with all the days she may have left,
she would never clean another mess
or fold his shirts or look her best.
She was free to waste away alone.

Last night, my brother he got drunk and drove.
And this cop he pulled him off to the side of the road.
And he said, “Officer! Officer! You got the wrong man.
No, no, I’m a student of medicine, a son of a banker, you don’t understand!”
The cop said, “No one got hurt, you should be thankful.
And your carelessness, it is something awful.
And no, I can’t just let you go.
And though your father’s name is known,
your decisions now are yours alone.
You are nothing but a stepping stone
on a path to debt, to loss, to shame.”

The last few months I have been living with this couple.
Yeah, you know, the kind who buy everything in doubles.
They fit together, like a puzzle.
And I love their love and I am thankful
that someone actually receives the prize that was promised
by all those fairy tales that drugged us.
And they still do me.
I’m sick, lonely, no laurel tree, just green envy.
Will my number come up eventually?
Like Love’s some kind of lottery,
where you scratch and see what’s underneath.
It’s “Sorry”, just one cherry, or “Play Again.”
Get lucky.

So I’ve been hanging out down by the train’s depot.
No, I don’t ride. I just sit and watch the people there.
And they remind me of wind up cars in motion.
The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions.
And I want to scream out that it all is nonsense.
All your lives one track, can’t they see it’s pointless?
But just then, my knees give under me.
My head feels weak and suddenly
it’s clear to see it’s not them but me,
who has lost my self-identity.
As I hide behind these books I read,
while scribbling my poetry,
like art could save a wretch like me,
with some ideal ideology
that no one can hope to achieve.
And I am never real;
it is just a sketch in me.
And everything I made is trite
and cheap and a waste of paint,
of tape, of time.

So now I park my car down by the cathedral,
where the floodlights point up at the steeples.
Choir practice was filling up with people.
I hear the sound escaping as an echo.
Sloping off the ceiling at an angle.
When the voices blend they sound like angels.
I hope there’s some room still in the middle.
But when I lift my voice up now to reach them.
The range is too high, way up in heaven.
So I hold my tongue, forget the song,
tie my shoe start walking off.
And try to just keep moving on,
with my broken heart and my absent God
and I have no faith but it’s all I want,
to be loved.

And believe,
in my soul.
In my soul.
In my soul.
In my soul.