Τιμόθεος

I haven’t been able to get into the feel of writing the last couple days.  Hopefully this helps.  This song was where I came up with the plot for the first time, while sitting in Sharon listening to it with Josh, Tess, Randy, and Aerial.  At first, it was just a scene in mind, but on the train home I fleshed it out into the plot I’ve been working on for NaNoWriMo.  The overall plot doesn’t directly overlap with the song, but hey.  Especially, you know, the ending.

“A Walk Through Hell” - Say Anything

1,2,3…

and if i could swim,
i’d swim out to you in the ocean,
swim out to where you were floating,
in the dark,
and if i was blessed,
id walk on the water youre breathin,
to lend you some air for that heavin sunken chest,
cause they chose you as the model for their empty little dreams,
with your new head and your legs spread like a filthy magazine,
and they hunt you and they gut you and you give in,
and if i was brave,
id climb up to you on the mountain,
they led you to drink from their fountain,
spouting lies,
and id slay the horrible beast they commissioned,
to steer me away from my mission to your eyes,
and i’d stand there like a soldier with my foot upon his chest,
with my grin spread and my arms out in my bloodstained sundays best,
and you’d hold me,
i’d remind you,
who you are, under their shelves…

i’d walk through hell for you,
let it burn right through my shoes,
these soles are useless without you,
through hell for you,
let the torturing ensue my soul is useless without you…

and if they send a whirlwind id hug it like a harmless little tree,
or an earthquake,
i’d calm it,
and i’d bring you back to me,
and i’d hold you in my weak arms like a firstborn…

i’d walk through hell for you,
let it burn right through my shoes,
these soles are useless without you,
through hell for you,
let the torturing ensue my soul is useless without you…

Now id walk through hell for you.
Whats an adventurer to do but rest these feet at home with you?

“Waiting Room” - Fugazi

I am a patient boy
I wait, I wait, I wait
My time is like water down a drain
Everybody’s moving, everything is moving
Please don’t leave me to remain

In the waiting room

I don’t want the news
I’m not a part of it
I don’t want the news
I have no use for it
Sitting outside of town
Everybody’s always down
Because…
They can’t get up

But I don’t sit by idly
I’m planning a big surprise
I’m gonna fight for what I want to be
I won’t make the same mistakes
Because I know how much time that wastes
Function is the key

In the waiting room

“The Island: Come and See; The Landlord’s Daughter; You’ll Not Feel the Drowning” - The Decemberists

Come and See

There’s an island hidden in the sound
Lapping currents lay your boat aground
Affix your barb and bayonet
The curlews carve their arabesques
And sorrow fills the silence all around
Come and see

There’s a harbor lost within the reeds
A jetty caught in overhanging trees
Among the bones of cormorants
No boot-mark here nor fingerprint
The rivers roll down to a soundless sea
Come and see
Come and see

The tides all come and go
Witnessed by no waking eye
The willows mark the wind
And all we know for sure
Amidst this fading light
We’ll not go home again
Come and see
Come and see

In the lowlands, nestled in the heath
A briar-cradle rocks its babe to sleep
Its contents watched by Sycorax
And Patagon in parallax
A foretold rumbling sounds below the deep
Come and see
Come and see

The tides all come and go
Witnessed by no waking eye
The willows mark the wind
And all we know for sure
Amidst this fading light
We’ll not go home again
Come and see
Come and see

The Landlord’s Daughter

As I was a-ramble
Down by the water
I spied in sable
The landlord’s daughter
I produced my pistol, then my saber
Said, “Make no whistle or thou will be murdered!”

She cursed, she shivered
She cried for mercy
“My gold and silver if thou will release me!”

“I’ll take no gold, miss, I’ll take no silver
But I’ll take those sweet lips, and thou will deliver!”

You’ll Not Feel the Drowning

I will dress your eyelids
With dimes upon your eyes
Laying close to water
Green your grave will rise
Go to sleep, little ugly
Go to sleep, you little fool
Forty-winking in the belfry
You’ll not feel the drowning
You’ll not feel the drowning

Forget you once had sweethearts
They’ve forgotten you
Think you not on parents
They’ve forgotten too
Go to sleep now, little ugly
Go to sleep now, you little fool
Forty-winking in the belfry
You’ll not feel the drowning
You’ll not feel the drowning

Go to sleep, little ugly
Go to sleep, little fool
Forty-winking in the belfry
You’ll not feel the drowning
You’ll not feel the drowning

Hear you now the captain
Heed his sorrowed cry
Weight upon your eyelids
Is dimes laid on your eyes

I’m told it’s based, at least in part, on Billy Shakespeare’s “The Tempest”.  I’ve never read it.  Sorry, but Shakespeare’s a hack.

“Butter Teeth” - The Mountain Goats

we spilled out through the front door
into the blinding lade light
sun reflected on the storefront windows
tremendously bright
we were norwegians come down from the north
attacking the walls of the fortress
i was permanently at the point of exhaustion
you were gorgeous

who’s here?
just us
nobody else around
stray electrical currents
trying to find the ground

we haunted the halls of the pharmacy
artlessly shoplifting random things
painkillers, cough syrup, tiger balm
bubblegum, cigarettes, and shower curtain rings
we were portuguese warships cresting the waves
cannons raised ready to dock
you were counting down the hours and minutes
i was trying to find a way of stopping the clock

who’s here?
just us
nobody else around
stray electrical currents
trying to find the ground