Lyrical Collage...

quickly…From “Love”

“It expands the sentiment; it makes the clown gentle and gives the coward heart. Into the most pitiful and abject it will infuse a heart and courage to defy the world, so only it have the countenance of the beloved object. In giving him to another it still more gives him to himself. He is a new man, with new perceptions, new and keener purposes, and a religious solemnity of character and aims. He does not longer appertain to his family and society, he is somewhat; he is a person; he is a soul.”

Annnnd

“Hence arose the saying, ‘If I love you, what is that to you?’ We say it because we feel that what we love is not in your will, but above it. It is not you but your radiance. It is that which you know not in yourself and can never know.”
-Emerson

I didn’t really mean to blog about Emerson, but I really liked his point in that second paragraph about how we say I love you, but the things we love, the person we love, are usually the things or the person that the one you’re saying “I love you” to can’t even see in themselves.; this seems odd considering that you would think the person who knows you best is you, and if you can’t see all that you are, that seems strange, like looking in a mirror and not seeing your nose or mouth. I find it ironic that we- even to ourselves- are sometimes strangers. Funny, huh?

To The Real Point. Here’s one song copy and pasted together with some of my favorite lyrics.

weep little lion man,
you're not as brave as you were at the start
Things used to be, now they not
anything but us is who we are
we all look like we feel
Text message breakups, the casualty of tour
How she gon’ wake up and not love me no more?

I walked the steps to her apartment with the window by the shore
And saw her curled on the tile through a crack in the door:
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

She's lying in the back room, crying on the bathroom floor
Singing “I can't take it, I can't take anymore,
I am a whore, I must confess,
I put you on just like a wedding dress.
I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright.
I go back to December all the time”

Oh and she's always dressed in white
She's like an angel, And she burns our eyes
She’s got a wolf to keep her warm
I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn
And it leans on me like a rootless tree,
Cause you were the same as me,
But on your knees

I've been searching for the words I don't know how to say
I've been searching for the words to make it go away
Things I've felt but I've never said
You said things that I never said
So I'll say something that I should have said long ago
Grace's amazing hands, they're ugly,
They're bruised by the blows that I have blown.

The lingering question kept me up,
2 a.m who do you love?
Have I still got you to cross my bridge in this storm?
Have I still got you to keep me warm?
Would you catch me if I fall out of what I fell in?
I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding.
I am,

Tonight, pretend you’re a cigarette,
And you’re being smoked by a picturesque girl.
What you feel is what you are,
And what you are is beautiful.
She pulled you in,
And bit your lip,
And made you hers.

I won’t set you free
I won't set you free
Not to say it’s over
Come right back to me
Lights will guide you home,
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you.