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Hopeless
And tearing the posters off all the walls
Knowing that every idol doesn’t deserve a fan like you
Talk it up
Go on, talk it up
Talk up all the things you can’t do
Talk it up to those who can
Don’t they realise who you really are
Don’t they keep their mouths shut
And don’t they all look down and laugh

And it’s not like you even try
Ever thought that maybe you could try
‘Stead of hiding
‘Stead of hiding
And you know if you never try
And you know if no one sees you try
You can never say you failed

Hopeless
And smashing the keyboard one more time
Hearing the resonance reminding yourself of you
Keep pretending
Like its worth something
Pretend like you know what you do
And just keep on shunning the unbelievers
Don’t they realise who you really are
Don’t they keep their mouths shut
And don’t they all look down and laugh

And it’s not like you even try
Ever thought that maybe you could try
‘Stead of hiding
‘Stead of hiding
And you know if you never try
And you know if no one sees you try
You can never say you failed

And it’s not even like you wanted it bad enough
It’s not even like you wanted it bad enough
It’s not even like you wanted it bad enough
And it’s not even like you pretended to want it

And it’s not like you even try
Ever thought that maybe you could try
‘Stead of hiding
‘Stead of hiding
And you know if you never try
And you know if no one sees you try
You can never say you failed

good old fashioned lover boy.

I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things
We can do the tango just for two
I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings
Be your valentino just for you

Ooh love - ooh loverboy
What're you doin' tonight, hey boy
Set my alarm, turn on my charm
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned lover boy

Ooh let me feel your heartbeat (Grow faster, faster)
Ooh ooh can you feel my love heat
Come on and sit on my hot-seat of love
And tell me how do you feel right after-all
I'd like for you and I to go romancing
Say the word - your wish is my command

Ooh love - ooh loverboy
What're you doin' tonight, hey boy
Write my letter
Feel much better
And use my fancy patter on the telephone

When I'm not with you
I think of you always
(I miss those long hot summer nights)
I miss you
When I'm not with you
Think of me always
Love you - love you

Hey boy where do you get it from
Hey boy where did you go ?
I learned my passion in the good old
Fashioned school of loverboys

Dining at the Ritz we'll meet at nine precisely
One two three four five six seven eight nine o' clock
I will pay the bill, you taste the wine
Driving back in style, in my saloon will do quite nicely
Just take me back to yours that will be fine (Come on and get it)

Ooh love, (There he goes again just like a good old-fashioned lover boy)
Ooh loverboy
What're you doin' tonight, hey boy
Everything's all right
Just hold on tight
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned fashioned lover boy

untitled

josh and i are on hiatus, as of thirteen minutes ago.





i feel lonely.

today is a day for quotes

"Where have you been? You should have been dressed by now."
"I have to talk to you, Ranec."
"We don't have time to talk," he said, with a frantic look in his eye.
"I'm sorry, Ranec. We have to talk. Some place where we can be alone."
He could only acquiesce. Ayla went into the tent first, and took something from her pack. They walked down the slope towards the river, then along its bank. Finally, Ayla stopped, reached inside her tunic, and pulled our the carving of a woman transcending into her spiritual bird form, the muta that Ranec had carved for her.
"I have to give this back to you, Ranec," Ayla said, holding it out to him.
Ranec jumped back, as though he had been burned. "What do you mean? You can't give that back! You need it to make a hearth. You need it for our Matrimonial," he said, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.
"That's why I have to give it back. I can't make a hearth with you. I'm leaving."
"Leaving? You can't leave, Ayla. You Promised. Everything's arranged. The Matrimonial is tonight. You said you would join with me. I love you, Ayla. Don't you understand, I love you." The panic rose in Ranec's voice with each statement.
"I know," Ayla said softly. The shock and pain in his eyes hurt her. "I Promised, and everything is arranged. But I have to leave."
"But why? Why now, all of a sudden?" Ranec asked, his voice high-pitched, almost strangled.




Let me know pretty baby
Is he doin' you right?
You might need somebody
new in your life
Somebody who is your type
Call me up, anytime
It could be the two in the night
On hind sight
You can call whenever you like

Shit, Moma, you're all
the freak I need,
I'm gonna bring the
alcohol and weed
Enough to cover every
night this week
The way I see, I don't
care about your man,
He don't need to know me

Besides, he ain't right,
Look, he treats you wrong
All I wanna do is help you
Get your freaking on
And we clicked right away
We wasn't speakin long
So kick your man to the curb
Where he belongs, uh






I've got your picture of me and you
You wrote "I love you" I wrote "me too"
I sit there staring and there's nothing else to do
Oh it's in color Your hair is brown
Your eyes are hazel And soft as clouds
I often kiss you when there's no one else around

I've got your picture, I've got your picture
I'd like a million of you all round my cell
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
You've got me turning up and turning down
And turning in and turning 'round





and one last one. found this on a forum, some guy;s signature, and its strangely amusing.
Women are scary. Anything that can bleed for a week and not die must be in league with the devil.

like lady godiva

sam laidlaw plays violin and love to dance. who'da thunk it?

lol i learnt that at the ball last night. yes, i went to the year eleven ball. i suspected it would be boring, and i'd be stuck sitting with my parents all night.

but!

i saw sam sitting alone at a table so i joined him, and we spent most the rest of the night dancing together. it was quite awesome, he's a really good dancer and was patient with me not remembering how they went.

he's a good person.

a new favourite song:

He came 'round for the afterparty
Got a reception more than hearty
Well no wonder, here he was, our city's most prominent martyr
Who stuck needles in his arms while you and I still stuck to smarties
And who taught us all 'bout poetry and how to pick up birds
Who hung on to his pathos while other suckers saved and earned
And the underground would love him in return

He came 'round for the afterparty
Got a reception more than hearty
So then he took a loop around and then he slouched into an armchair
And there was she, yeah in a flash, like Guinevere to her King Arthur
So I closed my eyes and this is what I heard:

You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martyrs, come on, come on
You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martys, come on!

I remember it all clearly, I remember it precise
How he fixed me with his stare and looked me right into the eyes
Saying: 'Me, I'm no machine, no, I defy the nine to five'
Now forgive me, I considered it both radical and wise
But for God's sake, I was fourteen at the time!

You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martyrs, come on, come on
You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martys, come on!

Now you who are so grand, who claim you built the fundaments on which I stand
You are the man, but you preferred the gentle fan I was before
But now it's time to be unkind to speak my mind
And if you ask why I'm so blunt, it's 'cause I care for you, you cunt!
You're no longer wild at heart, you're just a boring junkie fart
And if you really wanna die, alright, then die, then you old tart!
So I walked across the dancefloor until I was in his sight
And I opened up and this is what come out:

You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martyrs, come on, come on
You sorry ass, you sorry ass
Oh! Death to the martys, come on!


i love the song as a whole, but the jury's still out on the lyrics. i love the message, but i think the execution was clumsy in places.
oh well.
still a good song.

its my myspace song right now, actually. so if you haven't heard it, that would be the place to go.

post sixty

i suppose sixty isn't really all that big a milestone.
i mean, it's not half a century, and its not time to retire yet either.


it's a bit of an in-between number.

beetlejuice

hey, blog. remember me?
i've missed you.
yeah, i know i've been neglecting you lately.
it's just
it's just that uni has been pretty much eating my head
and i felt too
too angsty, and too much like a child.

but lately i have been reading back over blog entries.
here,
and on the good old msnspace.
and i realised that i really missed doing all
this.

i love you, blog.
i promise never to leave you again.