Monat: März 2014

Weekender (57)

Schon jetzt einer meiner Lieblingssongs und eines der besten Alben 2014 – The War on Drugs‘ „Red Eyes“ ist von hinten bis vorn perfekt, kein Lied zu lang oder zu kurz, melancholisch und optimistisch zugleich.


mysterious whispers from the dark side of the street

middle-upper class, knife juggling harlot
pale skin yet dark pussy lips
she prefers grass between her toes and fucking on the moon
you know, demons are just angels in the wrong light

he’s half horse with a license to piss in the streets
he made his living selling red’s to aristocrats at an old stagecoach stopover
he’s done worse for less

there are dark lanterns that hang in the bible belt
thats where they met
it’s hard to be a saint in the city but its easy to be a lunatic outside of it

they became matadors for bad ideas
nymphs with brown bone and dirty souls
but smell their blood, smell that youth

now something happened to them out there in crucifixion country
they couldn’t take anymore
no more of these toxic glue jobs and boiled nails stares
they needed out of the maze

they would sing to each other,
„give me an old motorcycle that could sit shiva,
let me see lesbian angels kiss in the sky once more,
blindfold my skeleton and bathe me wit dream“

now one day a flying impulse woke them
they grabbed all of their see-thru clothes and a copy of wolf prayers
and just
walked out

(Ich liebe dieses Gedicht, das mir einst ein Freund schickte. Ob er es für mich schrieb, weiß ich nicht und es ist auch egal. Das Gefühl und die Bilder, die es in mir hervorruft, sind ausreichend überwältigend.)