| Beach House – Master of None Lyrics | 18 years ago |
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You always go to the parties To pluck the feathers off all the birds On your knees I will not beg you beast I want your picture, but not yours I know they want it But there’s no firsts On your own I cannot count you all We want our heads too much We know the reasons but such and such On your own I will not let your arm go We run our fingers together You know it’s easy the devil’s plan On your own You cannot call me your own Chocolate entrees Master of none Crying all the time Cuz I’m not having fun You always want to be forgiven The devil does what you ask of him On your knees You cannot, you’re the beast this song, to me, seems to be obviously about comparing the act of partying with satan vs. worshiping God |
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| Tegan and Sara – Walking with a Ghost Lyrics | 19 years ago |
| it makes me think of reporters after the gulf war. the American soldiers left, the Kurds were forced to walk though the middle east looking for a home. the path was filthy, crowded, and dangerous. Along with them were a few American reporters. The kurds didn’t even feel the presence of the reporters or the American people as anything more then the presence of ghosts. (they were "walking with the ghost" ... if i must.) ghosts that could reappear and disappear whenever they wanted. After the Vietnam war, Vietnamese people would grab hold of the helicopters as the Americans departed, as if they could find some hope in america. But not this time, they knew while they were in hell, they were just going to be watched as they were in hell, not helped. The world just stands there silent like ghosts. no matter what horrible things happen outside our living rooms, there needs to be an explosion in our backyard for us to become human. the apathy toward death and war scares me. for what could make you feel more helpless? dying in an empty room, or dying while the whole world is watching? | |
| Tegan and Sara – Walking with a Ghost Lyrics | 19 years ago |
| it makes me think of reporters after the gulf war. the American soldiers left, the Kurds were forced to walk though the middle east looking for a home. the path was filthy, crowded, and dangerous. Along with them were a few American reporters. The kurds didn’t even feel the presence of the reporters or the American people as anything more then the presence of ghosts. (they were "walking with the ghost" ... if i must.) ghosts that could reappear and disappear whenever they wanted. After the Vietnam war, Vietnamese people would grab hold of the helicopters as the Americans departed, as if they could find some hope in america. But not this time, they knew while they were in hell, they were just going to be watched as they were in hell, not helped. The world just stands there silent like ghosts. no matter what horrible things happen outside our living rooms, there needs to be an explosion in our backyard for us to become human. the apathy toward death and war scares me. for what could make you feel more helpless? dying in an empty room, or dying while the whole world is watching? | |
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