Oh Sankofa high in the heavens you soar
My soul is soon to follow you back to yesterday’s moon
Will it remember me back to yesterday’s sun?
It will rekindle me
Rekindle the spirit into tomorrow and high on the wind
Sankofa flies again and again
” —As much as I despise the self-help-writing trend, I must relay that this is excellent and valuable: http://t.co/NoSEEOn5
“…but I do believe in love.”
You can seek, but you won’t find it, my love
That is, if you’re seekin’ it all on your own
‘Cause we were meant to share it
Yeah, we were made to share
When your’e alone, you’re wrong, my love
My love
The very worst moments can’t be shared, love
And that’s the very worst, ‘cause I live to share
Yeah, we live to share
And I know if I’d suck in my pride I’d find ya standin’ there
My love
And you know that we can dance if you want to
I won’t push you away
We can carry all the baggage
To the edge of the sea
‘Cause when God made the oceans
He knew all about you and me
And we can share in that, share, so easily
My love
Still, I’m afraid to talk to you, my love
Still, I’m afraid to talk to you, my love
//// still the most precise pop song I’ve ever written. wrote it 7 years ago. Audio streams here: http://paulbanks.bandcamp.com/track/live-to-share \\
At Live Aid, held at Wembley on 13 July 1985, in front of the biggest-ever TV audience of 1.9 billion, Queen performed some of their greatest hits, during which the sold-out stadium audience of 72,000 people clapped, sang, and swayed in unison. The show’s organiser, Bob Geldof, other musicians such as Elton John and Dave Grohl, and various music journalists commented that Queen stole the show.
An industry poll in 2005 named it the greatest rock performance of all time.
” —Well I know you don’t need the confusion
And I know you just ain’t the type
To get wrapped up in the illusion
Of doin’ something that you know ain’t right right right
Right right
Right right
Right right right
You’ve got to want to re-arrange
And keep it off the record, off the record
You’ve got to know that we will change
And keep it off the record, off the record
Come on!
I’m part of the scene
I’m part of the scene
Suit jacket and jeans
I got the right LPs
I got the right LPs
I got the Lou Reed
And all the Blondie you’ll ever need
Atlantic Ocean
Atlantic Ocean
You’re gonna drown, drown, drown
I’m part of the scene
I’m part of the scene
I got the drum machine
(A-boom tap boom tap, a-boom tap boom tap)
I got the right routine
I got the right routine
‘Cause the end justifies the means
Yes, lately I know
That it’s so hard to see where to go
And it’s so hard just to keep this to myself
When I live for no one else
Atlantic ocean
Atlantic ocean
You’re gonna drown, drown, drown
Dear Austin,
I saw you shyly eying me way back when and I ignored it, instead choosing to linger on the Riverwalk and take another tour of the Alamo. But San Antonio spit me out without even really meaning to, and I decided to return your gaze, and I guess it was love. We picked the bugs from each others hair and patted each other on the back, even when we’d done something terrible.
After awhile, you got over me and started slapping me with your velvet gloves, but I am a masochist and kept coming back for more. It actually didn’t hurt at all. That’s the funny thing about velvet gloves; no matter how hard you get hit, no matter how many times, you can still mistake it for something pleasant, for a benevolent impulse on the part of the slapper.
I only recently realized these slaps were meant to wake me up. And so I journeyed outside Austin and got slapped around by other cities. Boston’s rubber dishwashing gloves could never be mistaken for anything pleasant. And New York’s gloves were constructed from bits of a metal drainpipe and felt none too pleasant on the skin, although they were a marvel to behold from afar.
And so I returned to you with a renewed appreciation for your velvet slap. And you found something in me too. Now when I see you around, your gloves reach not to sting my cheeks, but wave a friendly hello.
Yrs,
Bill Baird
________
