samlonghorn

I barely slept last night, have a cold that is pissing me off and managed to screw up a simple task at work and lost two hours because of it. Still, at least my boss thanked me for coming in when I clearly wasn't feeling all there.

In lieu of a proper blog, her are some lyrics from my favourite song at the moment:

The Lapse - "The Threat"

be it seventy more years or seven hundred, who cares?
seven thousand couldn't drown out the tears drawn out by The Threat
from the moment I was born before I reached my mother's arms
The Threat revealed itself to me as The End.
and I will run
and I will build
and I will fuck
and for this it is hailed
Yes it is the force behind my movement and the insight in my youth
but I write out of fear and I sculpt to add more years
though I know no immortal name has the power to pump blood through a dead vein

I am driven like the slave who hears the cracking whip
and I study because I've felt the nun's stick
and you know at times I'm torn between envy and loathing
towards the Believers who don't believe in it

there's an American fear that when the races disappear
we will be overrun with bad ballads and epics of the past
and yet not for a second have you rethought why the Civil War was fought
we still push on despite this Threat over our heads.

now think back to the back of your class to the student drawing trains
he knew the names to every car that rode the rails
the whip did not work on him, he knew the report card was thin
he was too motivated to even keep a friend

there is a Pure Aesthetic deep inside every one of us
that has the power to move ten times more than The Threat
but until the end is beat the two forces must compete
and condition comes second to existence

on my tongue there is a bud
on my thumb there is a nerve
and my eyes let in the light that they love
there are more between my legs
down my spine
and in my head
and they are moved not by a fist or by a gun

like a tyrant on parade who commands the opressed's praise
The Threat has scared usinto thinking he can't be taken
but as his throne is whittled away i see clearly
a new motivator is speaking

when the Young Idea is through and we have nothing to do
is is nothing that creates the new
boredom is a teenager that hasn't found a role
we are young if we are allowed to grow old

Seventy more years is seventy more with The Threat
Another seven hundred? I'd be a paranoid wreck
no nothing short of completely removed will let my shoulders ease
I need a guarantee to let me breathe