Regen / the sound of rain
patti smith - boy cried wolf
they drew him from the forest
like they draw blood
tied him to a tree like st. sebastian
and he turned his head and let the arrows fly
through the trees the trees
the ornamental leaves
in the ancient mould they’re dancing down
calling to the moon but it don’t answer
and they fell on their knees and passed the bowl around
and the blood the blood the sacramental blood
i am the body i am the stream
i am the wake of everything
they bring me flowers that are myself
garlands of blood that are myself
slain the lamb that is himself
lost received retrieved
the human tide
innocence had its day
type o negative - wolf moon (including zoanthropic paranoia)
the sugarcubes - fucking in rhythm & sorrow
he looks at me hopeless with tears in his eyes
goes out of the window and up on the roof
naked man, naked man come down!
i… i’ll give you some strawberry cake
(song of the day)
cocorosie - good friday
just because the sky turned from gray into blue
neil young - it’s a dream
in the morning when i wake up
and listen to the sound of the birds outside on the roof
i try to ignore what the paper says
and i try not to read all the news
and i’ll hold you if you had a bad dream
and i hope it never comes true
it’s only a dream
just a memory without anywhere to stay
only a dream
and it’s fading now
fading away
pj harvey & john parish - april
april, how could i not have seen
april, you coming
april, how could i have worn in-appropriate clothing?
april, all that careful stepping, rounding of my soul
and now your rain
hatching, collapsing, tumbling down
april! what if i drown!
i dreamed, april, that i’m walking
that i’m watching your rain
it overcomes me
the irrepressibles - cloudbusting (bbc radio2 session)
everytime it rains
you’re here in my head
like the sun coming out
oh, i just know that something good is going to happen
i don’t know when
but just saying it could even make it happen
the sun’s coming out
kristeen young - halfway across the atlantic ocean
the day… that it became… clear… was… the first time that i saw you for the 150th time, but can you blame me? i was reaching, reaching… halfway across the atlantic ocean.
the place… it socked my square jaw face… my toe had dipped to rate and you grabbed me, in up to my waist. contrary to unpopular opinion, the water was welcoming warm, and we slid easily, wrapped up and reaching, reaching… halfway across the atlantic ocean.
the time… i grope to find that there is no sign… with bottomless hope, i’ll dive. then, i will swim ‘til my limbs are numb and dim, with a paralysed hip, i’ll slip, fingertips to sea lip. eternally reaching, more than… halfway across the semantic ocean.
gone, gone, gone… i have enough rope when you’re gone, gone, gone. the oven’s cozy when you’re gone, gone, gone. prescriptions filled when you are gone, gone, gone. it’s cocked and loaded when you’re gone, gone, gone. my knives get sharpened when you’re gone, gone, gone.
it tastes like almonds when you’re gone, gone, gone. the traffic’s playful when you’re gone.
take flying leaps when you are gone. autoerotic when you’re gone. see, i’ll be fine when you are gone.
“my only love song.”
leonard cohen - chelsea hotel #1 (live ‘72)
you said, “well never mind, we are ugly but we have the music.”
