colourmeetsscheme's Xanga

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Thu, 01 Feb 2007 03:47:20 GMT

snow! "it sure looks fine on a night like this."
i got hugged by a child for an hour and a half today.
"tell em that God's gonna cut em down,"
- sean michel for president

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Thu, 07 Sep 2006 18:49:22 GMT

I could look at your face for 1000 years
It's like a Civil War of pain and of cheer

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Sat, 05 Aug 2006 21:00:35 GMT

the most essential record i have ever owned.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Mon, 17 Apr 2006 09:48:58 GMT

roles in our society are way bigger than i thought. i think am a classic 'middle man.' what a weird thing to have control of your life. And to not realize you are living your life to be the median, the moderate. now, i am realizing how many things in my life that has covered and it makes no sense. it's kinda scary; our subconscience.
these lyrics are insanely sad and terrific.

When I'm lyin' in my bed at night
I don't wanna grow up
Nothin' ever seems to turn out right
I don't wanna grow up
How do you move in a world of fog
That's always changing things
Makes me wish that I could be a dog
When I see the price that you pay
I don't wanna grow up
I don't ever wanna be that way
I don't wanna grow up

Seems like folks turn into things
That they'd never want
The only thing to live for
Is today...
I'm gonna put a hole in my TV set
I don't wanna grow up
Open up the medicine chest
And I don't wanna grow up
I don't wanna have to shout it out
I don't want my hair to fall out
I don't wanna be filled with doubt
I don't wanna be a good boy scout
I don't wanna have to learn to count
I don't wanna have the biggest amount
I don't wanna grow up

Well when I see my parents fight
I don't wanna grow up
They all go out and drink all night
And I don't wanna grow up
I'd rather stay here in my room
Nothin' out there but sad and gloom
I don't wanna live in a big old Tomb
On Grand Street

When I see the 5 o'clock news
I don't wanna grow up
Comb their hair and shine their shoes
I don't wanna grow up
Stay around in my old hometown
I don't wanna put no money down
I don't wanna get me a big old loan
Work them fingers to the bone
I don't wanna float a broom
Fall in love and get married then boom
How the hell did I get here so soon
I don't wanna grow up

easter is sad and weird, man.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Tue, 04 Apr 2006 20:21:05 GMT

"Some have said Press was an inward-looking album. If that's true, than [sic] this album is the opposite, and that suits me just fine. I've also stopped worrying if my changing taste in music costs me fans; life's too short to live in anyone's box, especially if that box is constraining your shine."

see? DJ Shadow contains multitudes too.

e-jesse

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Sun, 02 Apr 2006 10:30:10 GMT

don't ever let any old body talk down on Tom.

Sane, sane, they're all insane,
fireman's blind, the conductor is lame
A Cincinnati jacket and a sad-luck dame
Hanging out the window with a bottle full of rain
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

Said roar, roar, the thunder and the roar
Son of a bitch is never coming back here no more
The moon in the window and a bird on the pole
We can always find a millionaire to shovel all the coal
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

Said steam, steam, a hundred bad dreams
Going up to Harlem with a pistol in his jeans
A fifty-dollar bill inside a palladin's hat
And nobody's sure where Mr. Knickerbocker's at

Roar, roar, the thunder and the roar
Son of a bitch is never coming back here no more
Moon in the window and a bird on the pole
Can always find a millionaire to shovel all the coal
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

I said steam, steam, a hundred bad dreams
Going up to Harlem with a pistol in his jeans
A fifty-dollar bill inside a palladin's hat
And nobody's sure where Mr. Knickerbocker's at

Shine, shine, a Roosevelt dime
All the way to Baltimore and running out of time
Salvation Army seemed to wind up in the hole
They all went to heaven in a little row boat
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Tue, 28 Mar 2006 04:10:44 GMT

im sick or something. thanks for this cd maggy. it helps me get through my illness.

Heres to sickness:

I got sunburnt waiting for the jets to land
Circus people with hairy little hands
Come on boys strike up the army band
I got sunburnt waiting for the jets

How do you feel?
How do you feel?
I can't seem to see through solid marble eyes

Fiery pianos wash up on a foggy coast
Squeaky old organs have given up the ghost
Fire them up and kill the pianos
There's creaky old organs burning on the coast

How do you feel?
How do you feel?
I can't seem to breath with a rusted metal heart
I can't seem to see through solid marble eyes

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Tue, 21 Feb 2006 01:55:49 GMT

"Do I contradict myself?" asked Walt Whitman singing and answering, "very well then. I contradict myself. (I am large. I contain multitudes.)"

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Thu, 02 Feb 2006 19:25:48 GMT

----------
Swamp
----------

Now lemme tell you a story
The devil he has a plan
A bag a' bones in his pocket
Got anything you want
No dust and no rocks
The whole thing is over
All these beauties in solid motion
All those beauties, gonna swallow you up

Hi hi hi hi hi,
One time too many
Too far to go
I- We come to take you home

And when they split those atoms
It's hotter than the sun
Blood is a special substance
They gonna pray for that man

So wake up young lovers
The whole thing is over
Watch but touch monkeys
All that blood, gonna swallow you whole

Hi hi hi hi hi
What's that? Who's driving?
Where we goin'? Who knows?
I- We come to take you home

How many people do you think I am
Pretend I am somebody else
You can pretend I'm and old millionaire
A millionaire washing his hands
Rattle the bones, dreams that stick out
A medical chart on the wall
Soft violence and hands touch your throat
Ev'ryone wants to explode

And when your hands get dirty
Nobody knows you at all
Don't have a window to slip out of
Lights on, nobody home

Click click- see ya later
Beta beta- no time to rest
Pika pika- risky business
All that blood, will never cover that mess.

Hi hi hi hi hi
So soft hard feelings
What's that, who's driving
No tricks lets go
I- We come to take you home
I- We come to take you home
Hi hi hi hi hi

p.s. if anyone wants to buy a pedal pad(i dont know the exact name of it, but its that big pedal board i have - if you've seen it) i'm selling it. let me know. i also have a distortion pedal and delay pedal that i would be willing to sell.

e-jesse

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Thu, 26 Jan 2006 01:17:30 GMT

O.MY.GOD.....THIS.RECORD....