My brother's refusal to give my music a chance breaks my heart.
I’ve tried so many bands like fun., say anything, new found glory, ball park music and he says it’s all crap and only likes the tunes he’s heard on the radio. Or video game music.
Seriously. Every time we go out to Illinois I deal with the hit or miss radio in my car for him and I’m finally putting my foot down. I’m not saying he should like all of my music, but csn he enjoy one band? Please? Le sigh.
Two nights ago I was Dean Winchester and fighting zombies that wouldn’t die with Sam and Ellen (except they were actually irl friends too?). We had to cut off their heads and hide them, just like lethiathans.
Last night I was Harry Potter and fighting Voldermort with Hermione and some others, but I didn’t know any spells other than the jelly legs jinx and expelliarmus. The elder wand was hella cool, though.
I wonder what pop culture world I’ll be immersed in tonight…maybe I can actually be a girl again.
I can’t stop listening to this album. I’ve been living with it for two weeks.
We have decided that this is best pick me up band ever. I mean, read this except from their website:
"Lyrically Brian Sella fires off scattershot images that the listener can gather up and make sense of like working puzzle pieces on the floor. Romance, freedom, paranoia, partying and somehow getting clean all tumble together from song to song."
And if I could swim, I’d swim out to you in the ocean, Swim out to where you were floating in the dark. And if I was blessed, I’d walk on the water you’re breathing, To lend you some air for that heaving, sunken chest.
‘Cause they chose you as the model for their empty little dreams, With your new head and your legs spread like a filthy magazine. And they hunt you, and they gut you, and you give in.
And if I was brave, I’d climb up to you on the mountain, They led you to drink from their fountain spouting lies. And I’d slay the horrible beast they commissioned To steer me away from my mission to your eyes. And I’d stand there, like a soldier, with my foot upon his chest, With my grin spread, and my arms out, in my bloodstained Sunday’s best, And you’d hold me; I’d remind you who you are under their shell.
I’d walk through hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes These soles are useless without you Through hell for you, let the torturing ensue; My soul is useless without you…
And if they send a whirlwind, I’d hug it like a harmless little tree. Or an earthquake, I’d calm it, and I’d bring you back to me. And I’d hold you in my weak arms like a first born.
I’d walk through hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes, These soles are useless without you Through hell for you, let the torturing ensue; My soul is useless without you…
Through hell for you Through hell for you Without you, without you…
Now I’ve walked through hell for you. What’s an adventurer to do, But rest these feet at home with you?