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Thursday, February 22, 2007
Shivers
I’ve been contemplating Suicide But it really doesn’t suit my style So I think I’ll just act bored instead To contain the blood I could have shed She makes me feel so weary My heart is really on its knees
But I keep a poker face so well
That even my mother couldn’t tell
That my baby’s so vain
She is almost a mirror
And the sound of her name
Send a permanent shiver
Down my spine
Down my spine
Well I keep her photograph against my heart
Cause in my life she plays
A starring part
Our love could hold on cigarettes
There is no room for these cheap regrets
She makes me feel so weary
My heart is really on its knees
But I keep a poker face so well
That even my mother couldn’t tell
That my baby’s so vain
She is almost a mirror
And the sound of her name
Send a permanent shiver
Down my spine
Down my spine
Sends a permanent shiver down my spine
But I keep a poker face so well
That even my mother couldn’t tell
That my baby’s so vain
She is almost a mirror
And the sound of her name
Send a permanent shiver
Down my spine
Down my spine
Well I keep her photograph against my heart
Cause in my life she plays
A starring part
Our love could hold on cigarettes
There is no room for these cheap regrets
She makes me feel so weary
My heart is really on its knees
But I keep a poker face so well
That even my mother couldn’t tell
That my baby’s so vain
She is almost a mirror
And the sound of her name
Send a permanent shiver
Down my spine
Down my spine
Sends a permanent shiver down my spine
This song has not been played for a very long time in my headspace. I feel this only became apparent to me when DeeDee played his guitar the other night as we were trying to pen down some words to one of his songs. I had tried to think of other songs I knew at the time, and my brain much like a colander, I was unable to at the time. Alas, when I woke up Monday morning I started instantly singing, humming and whistling these lyrics all the way to work. Don't make any perplexing reason why I was so chipper after the weekend that flew me by.
I'm afraid I won't be able to release it from my skull. I will need to track down my catalogue of Screaming Jets on my IPOD, which I haven't switched on for over 6 months, and hope I have it saved. I'm yet to hear the original track by Nick Cave, but rather Dave Gleeson's version. Would you believe I requested this song once (many many moons ago) for my love at the time on Triple J. Remembering clearly, I was driving home from yet another 12 hour work-day in Sydney and all I could think about was her and this song. Did I just hear 'Awwwww's in the audience or was that dry-retching?
If you're asking why I keep posting these articles regarding songs? It's a pattern and I think a lot of people understand that music remind us of certain things in our past (click to read). Unfortunately a few songs remind me of very disillusioned clubs when I was young trying to look cool in my hood. I'm then suddenly struck with thoughts of how I learnt to dance like a white man. Then the image of my dad shaking his stuff comes into frame and I'm now lost for any further useless words. Unfortunately all men one day are going to be pitied by their own younger blood when you feel that you still have the balls for the "struttin' it" disco technique (I know you loved that linky).
I was going to post on my upcoming 'bearded man' project but alas that will have to wait until I get the creativity to adapt to the thought and start the project. At the moment Sam is by far jumping leaps and bounds ahead in a race to be Grizzly Adams.
Would you believe I wrote this while in an office meeting listening to my boss come out with some outrageous work orientated metaphors.
I'm afraid I won't be able to release it from my skull. I will need to track down my catalogue of Screaming Jets on my IPOD, which I haven't switched on for over 6 months, and hope I have it saved. I'm yet to hear the original track by Nick Cave, but rather Dave Gleeson's version. Would you believe I requested this song once (many many moons ago) for my love at the time on Triple J. Remembering clearly, I was driving home from yet another 12 hour work-day in Sydney and all I could think about was her and this song. Did I just hear 'Awwwww's in the audience or was that dry-retching?
If you're asking why I keep posting these articles regarding songs? It's a pattern and I think a lot of people understand that music remind us of certain things in our past (click to read). Unfortunately a few songs remind me of very disillusioned clubs when I was young trying to look cool in my hood. I'm then suddenly struck with thoughts of how I learnt to dance like a white man. Then the image of my dad shaking his stuff comes into frame and I'm now lost for any further useless words. Unfortunately all men one day are going to be pitied by their own younger blood when you feel that you still have the balls for the "struttin' it" disco technique (I know you loved that linky).
I was going to post on my upcoming 'bearded man' project but alas that will have to wait until I get the creativity to adapt to the thought and start the project. At the moment Sam is by far jumping leaps and bounds ahead in a race to be Grizzly Adams.
Would you believe I wrote this while in an office meeting listening to my boss come out with some outrageous work orientated metaphors.
"It's come home to roost" - was my personal favourite along with "Drilling down and thrashing it out" of which, I got slightly aroused amongst the group of women. Got any yourselves?
