I haven’t listened through all of imogen heap’s new cd yet, I can’t take her voice for too long so I have been listening to it in short bursts. This is one of the few songs that actually caught my attention.
oh my gosh yes.
Imogen is my queen supreme.
I’m reblogging this to make sure Morgan listens to it.
Baudelaire was sitting in a doorway with a wino on San Francisco’s skidrow. the wino was a million years old and could remember dinosaurs. Baudelaire and the wino were drinking Petri Muscatel. “One must always be drunk,” said Baudelaire. “I live in the American Hotel,” said the wino. “And I can remember dinosaurs.” “Be you drunken ceaselessly,” said Baudelaire.
Her clothes spread wide and mermaid-like while they bore her up: which time she chanted snatches of old tunes, and sweet Ophelia floated down the river past black stones until she came to an evil fisherman who was dressed in clothes that had no childhood, and beautiful Ophelia floated like an April church into his shadow, and he, the evil fisherman of our dreams, waded out into the river and captured the poor mad girl, and taking her into the deep grass, he killed her with the shock of his body, and he placed her back into the river, and Laertes said, Alas, then she is drown’d! Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia.
“You’re drunk,” she said, crying very hard. “I wish I could get drunk with you again. But there’s no way across.”
“We can dream up a better way for you to die than stuck in traffic,” I said.
“No,” she said. “Not if I can’t get to sleep.”
“Then we’ll stay up all night,” I said. “You’ll stay up all night with me. We’ve done it before, lots of times. I love you so soundly and I will do anything to drag you forward. You’re mine, Lila. You’re my star quarterback.”
“I fucking hate football,” Lila sobbed. “Blow up the game for me when I’m gone.”
“I won’t do a thing,” I said. “Without you I’m not moving.”—Soundly from Adverbs by Daniel Handler