This is one of my favorite songs. https://fnfgo.io
Down the street half a block away
In a familiar place,
Regular people agree with each other in smoke signals
Down the street half a block away in a familiar place
Where regular people all agree with each other
Interprets the law as aging
With its eyesight failing, the law is aging
Oh, sitting across, telling stories,
So sit across the table, our eyes unclose like books we've read twice
So cry ghost baby
So on the shelves lined with spines
Dust collects from scattered ash
From an urn unturned
Spilling over someone regular.
And all the such regulars
Cry ghost or boast of a friend of a friend
Who saw a strange sight,
Or heard a strange sound.
Now whisper tall tales of murder
Down the street, half a block away
In a familiar place, with regular people
Agree with each other in smoke signals
Brought together to burn the that brings them together
Interpret the law as aging with its eyesight failing x2
Somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read
Somebody, somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read
And the monsters in her bed who hacked her
into blood-meat.
Somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she read
While the monsters in her bed who hacked her
into blood-meat.
In a familiar place,
Regular people agree with each other in smoke signals
Down the street half a block away in a familiar place
Where regular people all agree with each other
Interprets the law as aging
With its eyesight failing, the law is aging
Oh, sitting across, telling stories,
So sit across the table, our eyes unclose like books we've read twice
So cry ghost baby
So on the shelves lined with spines
Dust collects from scattered ash
From an urn unturned
Spilling over someone regular.
And all the such regulars
Cry ghost or boast of a friend of a friend
Who saw a strange sight,
Or heard a strange sound.
Now whisper tall tales of murder
Down the street, half a block away
In a familiar place, with regular people
Agree with each other in smoke signals
Brought together to burn the that brings them together
Interpret the law as aging with its eyesight failing x2
Somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read
Somebody, somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read
And the monsters in her bed who hacked her
into blood-meat.
Somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she read
While the monsters in her bed who hacked her
into blood-meat.
Lyrics submitted by gorgonseye
The Dissentience Lyrics as written by Lucas Hoskin Arif Mirabodlbaghi
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
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Actually, The Spoon is right, the link is: headbangersblog.mtv.com/2008/01/28/protest-the-hero-kill-boredom-brain-cells-with-prog-noise/
"Brought together to burn the thing that brings them together." It's pretty clear they're talking about weed. :) The rest of the song seems to be about friends recalling experiences when they were stoned, and that sort of thing. The last line with the "girl" and "blood-meat" is probably in reference to the "bitches" they fuck, but maybe not. :D
In any case, I like to think there's little gems of hidden alternate meanings, like what mouse380 said, which I also thought was the theme of the song at first. Sometimes little things like that slip in subconciously when you write poetry.