Lazlo, Buddy (rethought)
December 31, 2007 9:52 AM
- played 15 times
This is a rethink of a song
I posted earlier this year.
This is part of a new series I'm thinking of doing in which I rework all of the songs I've written about depression, death, and alienation and gear them towards the largely untapped stairstepping/Indo-Row/aerobics classes of the world. It'll take me awhile to finish.
Actually, and seriously, I like the dichotomy between the two versions. At some point I'll probably add more instruments/layers of sound, but I'm liking this version so far as it is. Feel free to let me know what you think.
melissa may is at the beginning of the song from an introduction to a
podcast we did awhile ago. cortex and melissa may are singing backup (I used portions of their original vocals).
Words:
(In honor of all our friends who are really smart, but are a little bit nervous when they have to leave their basement.)
I know that it's hard to care about the world when all you want to do is just stay in bed and watch the shadows on the wall grow all day long. And the village fiddler never takes you there, maudlin to a point with an angel over head. Pirates on dry land never listening. Your tigers of passion beat the horses of instruction almost every day. The bones of the forgotten eat paintings of the spring almost every day. Your tigers of passion eat the horses of destruction almost every day. Waiting on the tornado can bring down anything. The days are constellations waiting for a harvest, but there's no way you can reach them, no clouds that you can stand on, though they gather 'round your head like pillows under night. So you hum an old tune learned from your grandma in those days in the kitchen when the sun would crawl across the floor, waiting for nothing but to be home... your tigers of passion.
(Get Flash to see the track player.)
posted by sleepy pete (7 comments total)
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posted by Corduroy at 10:51 AM on December 31, 2007