I'm gonna be perfect from now on
I'm gonna be perfect starting now
Mary Ellen Mark, Central Park, 1967
Listening To Procol Harum With A Fatal Arrythmia In Stand By
-- Dennis Mahagin
To ghost fly
the red eye
under the weather,
as if to kick start
the afterlife
we'll all be
together.
Or lie
down in turbulence,
and hope it gets
better
~~
beach pail,
belly up
in a hail
of radio
static --
skip a light
fandango, turn
cartwheels
it's automatic
~~
on a midnight flight
some misbegotten
insight
broken up, aisle seat
17 - A,
token of the din
of the ear drum in
heartbeat, alabaster
faster, faster
no sleep comes
for days
~~
or a walk on cold
coals,
ash,
clouds
between the toes
she said there is no reason
when a miller
told
of a dirge
descending
heavens from key
of C, at first just
mostly
Bach
fugue classic
rock, B 3
Hammond, big chill
where the air's
getting
t h i n n e r,
the air's getting
t h i n n e r . . .
stewardess hits
dimmer switch,
her nails pared
chalk
in shimmer,
nose cone
drops
she stalls,
you can't
talk:
Sir ... are you sure
you're gonna be okay?
~~
It's only the verse
got you
peaked ...
( and worst
on its way )
it's a shuffle
yet you keep it
need not
answer her
today.
I'm gonna be perfect starting now
Mary Ellen Mark, Central Park, 1967
Listening To Procol Harum With A Fatal Arrythmia In Stand By
-- Dennis Mahagin
To ghost fly
the red eye
under the weather,
as if to kick start
the afterlife
we'll all be
together.
Or lie
down in turbulence,
and hope it gets
better
~~
beach pail,
belly up
in a hail
of radio
static --
skip a light
fandango, turn
cartwheels
it's automatic
~~
on a midnight flight
some misbegotten
insight
broken up, aisle seat
17 - A,
token of the din
of the ear drum in
heartbeat, alabaster
faster, faster
no sleep comes
for days
~~
or a walk on cold
coals,
ash,
clouds
between the toes
she said there is no reason
when a miller
told
of a dirge
descending
heavens from key
of C, at first just
mostly
Bach
fugue classic
rock, B 3
Hammond, big chill
where the air's
getting
t h i n n e r,
the air's getting
t h i n n e r . . .
stewardess hits
dimmer switch,
her nails pared
chalk
in shimmer,
nose cone
drops
she stalls,
you can't
talk:
Sir ... are you sure
you're gonna be okay?
~~
It's only the verse
got you
peaked ...
( and worst
on its way )
it's a shuffle
yet you keep it
need not
answer her
today.
posted by hackmuth at
9:30 AM
1 Comments:
I don't have an active twitter account, hence the off-topic & unrelated comment...
re: af@dc
"i learned there's no imagination in the blues"
Found interesting comment when googling The Silver Jews– I'm Gonna Love the Hell Out of You (Lyrics) that you might also enjoy.
"General Comment:I don't quite know how to put it, but the song to me represents the two sides of love - at once feeling like you're being cuddled, and then feeling like being punched repeatedly. There seems to be a dual-meaning throughout the song whether this girl is the pious religious saviour who'll forget past errs to be with him, or on the other hand she could be quite a cold and blunt religioso who is turned on by such a sinful man. "Sentimental as a cat's grave" sums it up for me - it could be thought of as touching memorial, but really: what kind of a positive simile is a "cat's grave"? --Flagdaniel32on April 17, 2008"
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