-but I have had this song stuck in my head for ages.

Bang Bang, he shot me down )

Nancy Sinatra, as I have just learnt.


Feb. 9th, 2006 07:56 am
I woke up a few days ago with this song in my head and can't forget it.

Greenfields )
And I wonder from where I know the name Terry Gilkyson.
I know it's not 79 and it's a bit early, but this is one of my favorite songs this time of year.

Happy New Year )

In other news, [livejournal.com profile] wolflady26, I'll be heading down to you on Friday, starting here around 11. So if all goes well, I should be at your place around 3 or 4. Hope that's okay with you. And I hope the roads are clear...
I'll have to leave Sunday at about 11 or 12 to make it to Hammelburg without driving in the dark, which I wouldn't really like to do, unless the weather gets better. The Autobahn exit in Hammelburg never is cleared well, and I slipped off the road there once (to the side without guardrail, fortunately), that's way enough for my taste.

I watched "8 femmes" yesterday. Cool. But the French are weird. Great acting, though.

It's really cold and supposed to be snow storming tonight. What fun!


Aug. 13th, 2004 06:29 pm
Yesterday, while I was wondering whether the wind would damage the roof because I couldn't get that window shut, I read in an anthology of poetry I got for christmas 2 years ago. (That was my christmas in America, and I still can't believe how many things I got, not even being part of the family, really. But they seemed to want to make it really clear to me they liked having me with them, and that I shouldn't miss my family too much)
I came across some poems I really liked.
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea and the music in its roar.
I love not man the less, but nature more,
From these our interviews in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet can not all conceal.

George Gordon, Lord Byron. From "Childe Harold's pilgrimage".

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Robert Frost, "Acquainted with the night"

Both authors really appeal to me. The first thing of Frost I came across was The Road Not Taken. That particular poem I wrote down here was especially interesting to me yesterday, as I had just spent some time sitting at the window watching the thunders, and it seemed to fit to my mood and situation.
The first thing from Byron I ever read was a poem about Venice. I only remember the first lines.
I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs
A palace and a prison on each hand.
I saw from out the waves her structures rise
As from the stroke of an enchanter's wand.

It is sad, somehow, but so beautiful.
I want you
I need you
There ain't no way I ever gonna love you
Now don't be sad
'cause two out of three ain't bad...

I don't know why, but these lines always touch me. It's from Meat Loaf, Two out of three ain't bad

I just figured why I seemed to have missed so much and had to read through quite afew friends' posts. I went to visit my Grandma yesterday and couldn't check LJ as often as I usually do.
Tell me is love[...]
still a popular suggestion
or merely an obsolete art
forgive me for asking
this simple question
I'm unfamiliar with his heart
I'm a stranger here myself

why is it wrong
to murmur I adore him
when it's shamefully obvious I do
does love embarrass him
or does it bore him
I'm only waiting for my cue
I'm a stranger here myself

I dream of a day
of a gay warm day
with his face between my hands

have I missed the path
have I gone astray
I ask and no one understands

Love me or leave me
that seems to be the question
I don't no the tactics to use
but if he should make
a personal suggestion
how could I possibly refuse
when I'm a stranger here myself

Please tell me tell a stranger
by curiosity goaded
is there really any danger
that love is now outmoded
I'm interested especially
in knowing why you waste it
true romance is so fleshly
with what have you replaced it
what is your latest foible
is gin rummy more exquisite
is skiing more enjoyable
for heaven's sake what is it

I can't believe
that love has lost it's glamour
that passion is really passé
if gender is just a word in grammar
how can I ever find my way
I'm a stranger here myself

How can he ignore
my available position
why these victorian views
you see here before you
a woman with a mission
I must discover
the key to his ignition
and then if he should make
a diplomatic proposition
how could I possibly refuse
I'm a stranger here myself

I'm a stranger here myself - Kurt Weil (One touch of Venus)

I guess it is the "if gender is just a term in grammar" part that made the song stick in my mind. Because that is what I often think about. Yeah, I know I'm weird. But hey, this is my journal. And if you don't like it, nobody forces you to read it.


Jun. 25th, 2004 10:14 am
A very bad habit I have is singing along with songs I hear on the radio. I also listen to the text of any song I hear, and that may actually make me not like a song anymore just because the text doesn't suit me. For a song to become one of my favorites, music, text and artist have to be to my liking. So I usually end up liking only one or two songs from one artist. There are a few exceptions to that. Sting and The Police have been my favorites for a long time, through the Labyrinth movie I came across David Bowie, he became another.
Yesterday, something very rare happened to me. I listened to a song for the first time and immediately related to it. It fit my mood at that moment and it also reminded me of a good friend of mine, who is most likely to read this. So, Michael, isn't that part of what you've been telling me all along?
Here goes:

I can hear your soul crying
Listen to your spirit sighing
I can feel your desperation
Emotional deprivation

Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your feelings show

Picking up the conversation
Deep in your imagination
Tune into the lonely voices
Talking of their only choices

Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your spirit grow

Step out of the cage
And onto the stage
It's time to start
Playing your part
Freedom awaits
Open the gates
Open your mind
Freedom's a state

I can taste the tears falling
The bitterness inside you calling
Yearning for a liberation
Emotional emancipation

Let yourself go
Let yourself go
Let your senses overflow

Step out of the cage
And onto the stage
It's time to start
Playing your part
Freedom awaits
Open the gates
Open your mind
Freedom's a state

That's Depeche Mode: "Freestate", from the Ultra album
Want to know more? Read more... )



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