May. 30th, 2009

evilkate: (Default)
And every now and then you find a new song with lyrics that run like poetry :P






Satellite Skin by Modest Mouse
------------------------------------------

If you break these moth wing feelings
Powdering dust on your fingers
Well now were not prayin’ were kneelin’

Hard enough just to say you believe them
Well how the heck did you think you could beat them
At the same time that your trying to be them

Hard enough just to say you don’t need it
When they took it up while you were still eating
Well satellite, satellite skin

Just to know, just to say you don’t realize it
Well everyone’s willing to listen
Oh satellite, satellite skin

You can say what you want your forgiven
Well happy f***ing congratulations.
Well everyone, everyone wins

Just like being my own solar system
Doing good things but they totally eclipse them
Oh whats the use, oh what the hell

If you break these moth wing feelings
Butterfly knives in the ceiling
Well everyone, everyone's waiting

Detachments gets praised and completed
You can say what you want and not mean it
Well no one really seems to be waiting

If you sweep up this mess I created
Nothings left to show I existed
Oh satellite, satellite skin

Asking for a question
Was it easier to say then was actually done?
Do you even believe them?
Do you even believe that there’s a race to be won?

If you break these moth wing feelings
I have seen it all become satellite skin
Opening some eyes

A knack to know that it’s their opinions
Get stacked in all those usual avoided spots
Just to tell you I could not have seen
Through to the gist of those unhappy,
Happy accidents.


and a clip - so you can get the musical feel an a better idea of just how clever this band is  :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hz4DjL7jRcI


Egads I wish I'd thought of "Satellite Skin" or "Moth Wing Feelings" - hehe. This has inspired me to write something ... I'm curious to see what rises :)

Kate Out
evilkate: (Default)
raised beneath an unspent sun
-------------------------------------------









every day upon waking
a flock of dead birds ascends
from her eyes

borrowed from one day
after the next
they do not heed the lethargic shout
embraced within her quiet bones

nor shun an untoward sky, set high
above a loud, far too intangible earth

like this her feet descend
to cross each others unmade path
as she stumbles upon
her brightest wings aflame

just like an unspent sun
gently-bent against her idle
art









------------
Kate Out

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