Icelandic group "Of Monsters and Men"
http://www.ofmonstersandmen.com/
"Though the truth may vary/
this/
Ship will carry/
Our bodies/
Safe to shore"
Why is Iceland such a glorious place for you?
The last conversation we had, sitting in the car, you told me you were there in summer. How they had complained of the heat, 72 degrees Farenheit!!
And we both shared a smile. (I needed it, and you probably did too)
I think you might have taught Philosophy for a summer session.
All those pictures you sent me, when we first started talking. You had been so quiet, so hard to pin down for a conversation. But easy enough to see on the street or in the hallway. We would stop and chat.
And "chat". (How carefree you looked, going through your mail over the recycling bin. Right next to each other, the mailroom and the recycling. Why bring trash into your apartment?)
I was going to ask you right then, almost as a joke, "What lessons has the universe been teaching you lately that you need to teach to me?" Because we ran into each other so often within one week!
Now I think you are in bed more than you aren't.
(And I don't know what's going on with you, and how we are so different. Maybe I am the same crazy as you)
==
"King and Lionheart" video
You are the color in my drab lanscape. (Maybe I'll always spell that word wrong)
This opens with people being torn apart.
(Why does the kid, look like the Kid?)
I run and run from the evil bad guys who are always angry.
Somehow some magic appears beneath my feet, and instead of gravity, I run along a temporary glowing dirt bridge.
I run and I run,
but you are crying, locked in a tower that has become a spaceship.
And with all my magic, I am left to run on the ground, trapped by angry bad guys and gravity.
Even though we have been running towards each other this whole time.
(I have faith the blackness covers the future, and that everything turns out well)
==
There has to be some way we can talk. Through art.
I think I will send you music. It worked yesterday.
I sent you Mary Wells, you wrote back, "Great stuff." Because you wrote that I "Beat You To the Punch". (And that you had been thinking about me yesterday. Nothing about how we saw each other. And I didn't write to you until 10:30. What were you waiting for?)
Tomorrow, maybe, I can send you "Our Little Talks"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghb6eDopW8I
I miss our little talks.
http://www.ofmonstersandmen.com/
"Though the truth may vary/
this/
Ship will carry/
Our bodies/
Safe to shore"
Why is Iceland such a glorious place for you?
The last conversation we had, sitting in the car, you told me you were there in summer. How they had complained of the heat, 72 degrees Farenheit!!
And we both shared a smile. (I needed it, and you probably did too)
I think you might have taught Philosophy for a summer session.
All those pictures you sent me, when we first started talking. You had been so quiet, so hard to pin down for a conversation. But easy enough to see on the street or in the hallway. We would stop and chat.
And "chat". (How carefree you looked, going through your mail over the recycling bin. Right next to each other, the mailroom and the recycling. Why bring trash into your apartment?)
I was going to ask you right then, almost as a joke, "What lessons has the universe been teaching you lately that you need to teach to me?" Because we ran into each other so often within one week!
Now I think you are in bed more than you aren't.
(And I don't know what's going on with you, and how we are so different. Maybe I am the same crazy as you)
==
"King and Lionheart" video
You are the color in my drab lanscape. (Maybe I'll always spell that word wrong)
This opens with people being torn apart.
(Why does the kid, look like the Kid?)
I run and run from the evil bad guys who are always angry.
Somehow some magic appears beneath my feet, and instead of gravity, I run along a temporary glowing dirt bridge.
I run and I run,
but you are crying, locked in a tower that has become a spaceship.
And with all my magic, I am left to run on the ground, trapped by angry bad guys and gravity.
Even though we have been running towards each other this whole time.
(I have faith the blackness covers the future, and that everything turns out well)
==
There has to be some way we can talk. Through art.
I think I will send you music. It worked yesterday.
I sent you Mary Wells, you wrote back, "Great stuff." Because you wrote that I "Beat You To the Punch". (And that you had been thinking about me yesterday. Nothing about how we saw each other. And I didn't write to you until 10:30. What were you waiting for?)
Tomorrow, maybe, I can send you "Our Little Talks"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghb6eDopW8I
I miss our little talks.
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