lifted...

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Monday, Sept. 30, 2002 - where in the FUCK did my copy of lifted go?
11:46 pm

before i write anything, i have to go put in the new bright eyes album, for i have "You Will? You Will. You. Will." in my head. over and fucking over.

*five minutes later*

AAAAARGH!!!!!! IT IS STILL MISSING!!!

/me sets about downloading it on kazaa...

god, i hate the fact that my apartment is so dirty that i can't find one of my favorite cds.

and so far, shitty kazaa can't find it. god, i miss strangesearch. and why the fucking hell strangedownloader won't work for me is beyond my comprehension.

oh thank you god. found it. soon the lovely "aaaaah" sigh of relief kind of feeling that always comes along with the bright eyes will be MINE!!

*commence singing*

well, you say that i treat you like a book on a shelf
i don't take you out that often
cuz i know that i completed you
and that's why you are here
that's the reason you stay here
how awful that must feel

you said you'd be my dream
i could have you every night
and if by morning i'd forgotten you
well, no big deal, that'd be all right
cuz you're the re-occuring kind
you are the re-occuring kind
you never really leave my mind

are you the love of my lifetime
cuz there's been times i've had my doubts
we were just kids when i first kissed you
in the attic of my parents' house
and I wish we were there now
i took so long to figure out
what this book has been about

now i write when i'm away
letters that you'll never read
you said 'go explore those other women
the geography of their bodies
but there's just one map you'll need
you're a boomerang you'll see
you will return to me

yeah you will you will you will'

well, if you don't think this book's all lies
if you don't think my plans would all be ruined
i'll start drinking like the way i drank before
and i just won't have a future anymore.

*end singing*

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If the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall then I think we'd see the beauty then we'd stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges, like a story told between the fault lines and the soil. ~ Bright Eyes - Bowl of Oranges

...or the story is in the soil, keep your ear to the ground.