@[Diderik:33655] "Your a holiday!" Was a popular term used in the 50s/60s to compliment someone on their all around. For example, not only are they beautiful, but they are fun and kind too ... just an all around "holiday".
I think your first comment is closer to being accurate. The singer/song writers state "Millions of eyes can see, yet why am i so blind!? When the someone else is me, its unkind its unkind". I believe hes referring to the girl toying with him and using him. He wants something deeper with her, thats why he allows himself to be as a puppet (even though for her fun and games) as long as it makes her happy. But he knows deep down that she doesnt really want to be serious with him and thats what makes him.
As he lights an American spirit
He asks how I can smoke such shit
I say there's nothing like chain smoking
GPC cigarettes
'Cause any smokes will kill ya
But these will make you feel like it.
I sit back down,
on the parking lot curb
And remember back to February
The trip to Hartford.
When five minutes ago
He was passed out on the staircase
Trying to walk to his apartment
but not making it all the way.
And now he's driving us
100 miles an hour down the interstate
Another beer in his hand
Swearin' we won't be late.
That was before everyone moved to New Mexico
They all left a couple of months ago
Until the day my friend
When I sleep on the floor of your van again
I'll be waiting in this parking lot
And in my dreams, I am dirty broke, beautiful, and free
My hands clenched in a fist, and my face in a smile, after hitching too many miles.
We aren't revolutionaries, but we are the revolution.
And sometimes I think that the whole movement, it's just me and you
And maybe we'd all be better off if that were true
'Cause then at least we'd know where we stand
And we could tell our comrades apart from the man
But if the world isn't that simple
Maybe this town is at least
And if I'm not marching with them to war, I'm sure not marching with you for peace
Class traitor? What fucking ever!
I'm just another middle class kid, too.
But if I'm not good at changing, I'm good at self loathing
So I'll class hate myself with you.
May our only occupation be not having a job
And may the only cocktails that we make be molotov
May that day be now, and for as many days after that as we know how
It starts in this parking lot, and in my dreams, I am dirty broke, beautiful, and free. My hands clenched in a fist, and my face in a smile, after hitching too many miles.
He asks how I can smoke such shit
I say there's nothing like chain smoking
GPC cigarettes
'Cause any smokes will kill ya
But these will make you feel like it.
I sit back down,
on the parking lot curb
And remember back to February
The trip to Hartford.
When five minutes ago
He was passed out on the staircase
Trying to walk to his apartment
but not making it all the way.
And now he's driving us
100 miles an hour down the interstate
Another beer in his hand
Swearin' we won't be late.
That was before everyone moved to New Mexico
They all left a couple of months ago
Until the day my friend
When I sleep on the floor of your van again
I'll be waiting in this parking lot
And in my dreams, I am dirty broke, beautiful, and free
My hands clenched in a fist, and my face in a smile, after hitching too many miles.
We aren't revolutionaries, but we are the revolution.
And sometimes I think that the whole movement, it's just me and you
And maybe we'd all be better off if that were true
'Cause then at least we'd know where we stand
And we could tell our comrades apart from the man
But if the world isn't that simple
Maybe this town is at least
And if I'm not marching with them to war, I'm sure not marching with you for peace
Class traitor? What fucking ever!
I'm just another middle class kid, too.
But if I'm not good at changing, I'm good at self loathing
So I'll class hate myself with you.
May our only occupation be not having a job
And may the only cocktails that we make be molotov
May that day be now, and for as many days after that as we know how
It starts in this parking lot, and in my dreams, I am dirty broke, beautiful, and free. My hands clenched in a fist, and my face in a smile, after hitching too many miles.
Lyrics submitted by bluedude1249, edited by funnybluebox
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Great version of a great song,
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123 123!
"as he lights an american spirit, he asks how i can smoke such shit. i say there's nothin like chain smokin gpc cigarettes, cause any smokes will kill ya, but these will make you feel like it."
Makes me think of back in the last years of high school, chilling with my best friend. He'd started smoking american spirits, and i smoked newports. he always used to be like, "How do you smoke those nasty fucking things?" and i'd say shit like, "because i can FEEL them when i smoke them." when i first heard this song the line made me smile. reminiscing. pat the bunny really knows how to put feelings most people have into words when they can't.
123 123!
here we go!