by Nicole Atkins
I woke up from a nightmare to a dream
I've been known for singin in my sleep
It's all been such a blur
The devil's had his turn
May my path be lit up by the bridges that I've burned
Say goodbye to Santa Fe
You and I will never be the same
Bye to sorrow and to blame
I want a dream without pain
I woke up from a nightmare to a dream
Riding shotgun in the mercy seat
It's all been such a blur
And now I've found the nerve
May my path be lit up by the bridges that I've burned
Ellum's deep and Austin's low
You can stay there but I have to go
You can stand there in the flames
I want a dream without pain
I woke up from a nightmare to a dream
The most beautiful dream
Sunday, December 31, 2017
A Dream Without Pain
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: anticipation, change, dream
Monday, December 25, 2017
Gaudete
from Piae Cantiones
Gaudete, gaudete!
Christus est natus
ex Maria virgine
gaudete!
Tempus adest gratiae
hoc quod optabamus
carmina laetitiae
devote reddamus
Deus homo factus est
natura mirante
mundus renovatus est
a Christo regnante
Ezechielis porta
clausa pertransitur
unde lux est orta
salus invenitur
Ergo nostra concio
psallat iam in lustro
benedicat Domino
salus Regi nostro
Gaudete, gaudete!
Christus est natus
ex Maria virgine
gaudete!
Monday, June 26, 2017
If We Were Vampires
by Jason Isbell
It's not the long flowing dress that you're in
Or the light coming off of your skin
The fragile heart you protected for so long
Or the mercy in your sense of right and wrong
It's not your hands, searching slow in the dark
Or your nails leaving love's watermark
It's not the way you talk me off the roof
Your questions like directions to the truth
It's knowing that this can't go on forever
Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone
Maybe we'll get forty years together
But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone
If we were vampires and death was a joke
We'd go out on the sidewalk and smoke
And laugh at all the lovers and their plans
I wouldn't feel the need to hold your hand
Maybe time running out is a gift
I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift
And give you every second I can find
And hope it isn't me who's left behind
It's knowing that this can't go on forever
Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone
Maybe we'll get forty years together
But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: carpe diem, death, longing, loss, melancholia, romance
Friday, June 9, 2017
Dreams & Songs
by Warren Haynes
My whole life's been filled with song and dreams
When I was a child I had a time machine
Little did I know it would go to fast
Little did I know I could see the future
But not the past
Leave it all behind, come what may
Always thought I'd be coming home some day
Little did I know that life is hard
Here I am now, staring out a window
To my old back yard
Is there any comfort to be derived
In knowing that most of our lives
Could never be the same, could never go back home
And those that can, are lucky, I guess
To somehow escape from this mess
Me, I can only do it, in dreams and songs
Trying to feel the hope of running a race
Leaves an even bigger empty space
A moving target is harder to kill
Never was one for taking it easy
Or standing still
Nowadays I find myself again
Throwing stones and caution to the wind
Nothing's really changed but the scenery
Staring into my child's eyes, I realize
What it all means to me
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: dream, hope, life, longing, melancholia, memory, Mule
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Total Entertainment Forever
by J. Tillman
Bedding Taylor Swift
Every night inside the Oculus Rift
After mister and the missus
Finish dinner and the dishes
And now the future's definition
Is so much higher than it was last year
It's like the images have all become real
And someone's living my life for me out in the mirror
Can you believe how far we've come
In the new age?
Freedom to have what you want
In the new age we'll all be entertained
Rich or poor
The channels are all the same
You're a star now, baby, so dry your tears
You're just like them
Waking up from the nightmare
No god to rule us
No drugs to soothe us
No myths to prove stuff
No love to confuse us
Not bad for a race of demented monkeys
From a cave to a city to a permanent party
When the historians find us we'll be in our homes
Plugged into our hubs
Skin and bones
A frozen smile on every face
As the stories replay
This must have been a wonderful place
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: satire
Friday, March 31, 2017
Guys and Dolls
by Frank Loesser
When you see a guy reach for stars in the sky
You can bet that he's doing it for some doll
When you spot a John waiting out in the rain
Chances are he's insane, as only a John can be for a Jane
When you meet a gent paying all kinds of rent
For a flat that could flatten the Taj Mahal
Call it sad, call it funny, but it's better than even money
That the guy's only doing it for some doll
When you see a Joe saving half of his dough
You can bet they'll be minting it for some doll
When a bum buys wine like a bum can't afford
It's a cinch that the bum is under the thumb of some little broad
When you meet a mug lately out of the jug
And he's still lifting platinum folderol
Call it hell, call it heaven, it's a probable twelve-to-seven
That the guy's only doing it for some doll
When you see a sport and his cash has run short
You can bet he's been blowing it on some doll
When a guy wears tails with the front gleaming white
Who the heck do you think he's tickling pink on Saturday night?
When some lazy slob gets a good steady job
And he smells from Vitalis and Barbasol
Call it dumb, call it clever, ah, but you can't give odds forever
That's the guy's only doing it for some doll
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Monday, March 20, 2017
This Good Feeling
Tomas Dahl
See the first signs of spring through your window
Breathe in and feel the tingle in your nose
Try to open your eyes for a moment
An instant feeling that anything goes
Oh how I've missed this good feeling
It's been like this for so long
Don't wake me if I am dreaming
Soon everything will be gone
I try to get up in time for the sunrise
Ain't that something we all like to do?
You wonder why you keep fighting these bright lights
You never sleep until this beautiful view
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Saturday, March 4, 2017
Temptation Eyes
by Harvey Price
She's got something that moves my soul
And she knows I'd love to love her
But she lets me down every time
Can't make her mine, she's no one's lover
Tonight with me she'll be so inviting
I want her all for myself
Oh, temptation eyes
Looking through my soul
Temptation eyes
You've got to love me tonight
Her wild-eyed innocence is just a game
But just the same my head is spinning
She's got a way to keep me on her side
It's just a ride, it's never-ending
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Monday, February 27, 2017
Wedding Dress
by Derek Webb
If you could love me as a wife
And for my wedding gift, your life
Should that be all I'll ever need
Or is there more I'm looking for?
And should I read between the lines
And look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise?
Is that really what you want?
I am a whore, I do confess
I put you on just like a wedding dress
And I run down the aisle
I'm a prodigal with no way home
I put you on just like a ring of gold
And I run down the aisle to you
So could you love this bastard child?
Though I don't trust you to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
And with the other in your side
I am so easily satisfied
By the call of lovers less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over your very flesh and blood
Because money cannot buy
A husband's jealous eye
When you have knowingly deceived his wife
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Wednesday, February 22, 2017
Don't Go Away
by Noel Gallagher
Cold and frosty morning
There's not a lot to say
About the things caught in my mind
And as the day was dawning
My plane flew away
With all the things caught in my mind
And I want to be there
When you're coming down
And I want to be there
When you hit the ground
So don't go away
Say what you say
Say that you'll stay
Forever and a day
In the time of my life
'Cause I need more time
Yes, I need more time
Just to make things right
Damn my situation
And the games I have to play
With all the things caught in my mind
Damn my education
I can't find the words to say
With all the things caught in my mind
Me and you, what's going on?
All we seem to know is how to show
The feelings that are wrong
So don't go away
Say what you say
Say that you'll stay
Forever and a day
In the time of my life
'Cause I need more time
Yes, I need more time
Just to make things right
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
To His Coy Mistress
by Andrew Marvell
Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
A hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, Lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: anticipation, longing, poetry, romance
Tuesday, February 7, 2017
Should I?
by Arthur Freed
Should I reveal exactly how I feel?
Should I confess I love you?
Should I recite beneath the pale moonlight?
And swear by the stars above you?
Could I repeat the sweetest story told?
Could I entreat? Would it be too bold?
Should I reveal exactly how I feel?
Should I confess I love you?
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: anticipation, anxiety, choice, longing, romance, Standard
Thursday, February 2, 2017
Remember Surrender
by Sara Groves
Remember, surrender
Remember the rest
Remember that weight lifting off of your chest
And realizing that it's not up to you
And it never was
Remember, surrender
Remember relief
Remember how tears rolled down both of your cheeks
As the warmth of a heavenly father
Came closing in
I want to do that again
Why can't I live there
And make my home
In sweet surrender
I want to do so much more than remember
Remember, surrender
Remember the peace
Remember how soundly you fell fast asleep
In the face of your troubles
Your future still shone like the morning sun
Remember, surrender
Remember that sound
Of all of those voices inside dying down
But one who speaks clearly
Of helping and healing you deep within
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: disharmony, Groves, memory
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Willie Brew'd a Peck o' Maut
by Robert Burns
O Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allen cam to see;
Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night,
Ye wadna found in Christendie.
We are na fou, we're nae that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw
And aye we'll taste the barley bree.
Here are we met, three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mae we hope to be!
It is the moon, I ken her horn,
That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee!
Wha first shall rise to gang awa,
A cuckold, coward loun is he!
Wha first beside his chair shall fa',
He is the King amang us three.
We are na fou, we're nae that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw
And aye we'll taste the barley bree.
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Saturday, January 21, 2017
A Living Human Girl
by Lydia Night
I've got pimples on my face and grease in my hair
And prickly legs, go 'head and stare
An ass full of stretch marks and little boobs
A nice full belly that's filled with food
Sometimes I'm pretty, and sometimes I'm not
So let's take a listen, hit me with your best shot
I don't exercise, and I don't read books
And if you want to criticize me, go ahead, take a look
I'm not being bossy, I'm saying how I feel
And I'm not a bitch for stating what is real
Sometimes I'm girly, and sometimes I'm not
So let's take a listen, hit me with your best shot
I bleed once a month
Sometimes when I shave I get little red bumps
I wear short skirts and sometimes long pants
I can dress how I want, not looking for a show of hands
Sometimes I'm moody and sometimes I'm not
Sometimes I'm lazy and sometimes I'm not
Sometimes I'm crazy and sometimes I'm not
Sometimes I'm angry and sometimes I'm not
Sometimes I'm happy and sometimes I'm not
I'm still going be here even after your best shot
Because I can be brave and I can be bold
No matter what you have to say
Oh I fall in love with people once a day
But if you ask me out, I'm still allowed to say, 'no way'
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: anxiety, contentment, identity, political
Friday, January 20, 2017
It's the End of the World As We Know It
by Michael Stipe
That's great, it starts with an earthquake
Birds and snakes, an aeroplane
Lenny Bruce is not afraid
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn
World serves its own needs, don't misserve your own needs
Feed it up a knock, speed, grunt, no, strength
The ladder starts to clatter with a fear of height, down, height
Wire in a fire, represent the seven games
And a government for hire and a combat site
Left her, wasn't coming in a hurry
With the Furies breathing down your neck
Team by team, reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped
Look at that low plane, fine, then
Uh oh, overflow, population, common group
But it'll do, save yourself, serve yourself
World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed
Tell me with the Rapture and the reverent in the right, right
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam fight, bright light
Feeling pretty psyched
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine
Six o'clock, T.V. hour, don't get caught in foreign tower
Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn
Lock him in uniform, book burning, bloodletting
Every motive escalate, automotive incinerate
Light a candle, light a motive, step down, step down
Watch your heel crush, crush, uh oh
This means no fear, cavalier, renegade and steering clear
A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline
The other night I dreamt a nice continental drift divide
Mountains sit in a line, Leonard Bernstein
Leonid Brezhnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester Bangs
Birthday party, cheesecake, jellybean, boom
You symbiotic, patriotic, slam but neck, right? Right!
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: anxiety
Thursday, January 19, 2017
To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time
by Robert Herrick
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And, while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: aging, anticipation, encouragement
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face
by Alan Jay Lerner
I've grown accustomed to her face
She almost makes the day begin
I've grown accustomed to the tune
That she whistles night and noon
Her smiles, her frowns
Her ups, her downs
Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out and breathing in
I was serenely independent
And content before we met
Surely I could always
Be that way again
And yet...
I've grown accustomed to her look
Accustomed to her voice
Accustomed to her face
I'm so used to hear her say
'Good morning' every day
Her joys, her woes
Her highs, her lows
Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out and breathing in
I'm very grateful she's a woman
And so easy to forget
Rather like a habit
One can always break
And yet...
I've grown accustomed to the trace
Of something in the air
Accustomed to her face
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: contentment, frustration, longing, musical
Friday, January 6, 2017
Donal Óg
by Aoife O'Donovan
Black as night is this heart within me
Black as coal is this grief that drives me
Black as bootprints on polished hallways
And it's you who have blackened it forever and always
For you've taken what's before and behind me
East and west when you would not mind me
Sun, moon, and stars from the sky you've taken
And God, as well, if I'm not mistaken
Oh, Donal Óg, you'll not find me lazy
Not like some high-born expensive lady
I'll do your milking, and I'll nurse your baby
And if you were set upon, I'll defend you bravely
When all beside a vigil keep
The West's asleep, the West's asleep
Alas! and well may Erin weep
When Connaught lies in slumber deep
There lake and plain smile fair and free
'Mid rocks their guardian chivalry
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: loss, melancholia, memory