It's nice to hear you say hello And how are things with you I love you But very soon it's time to go And off this job to do While I'm here writing songs for you
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@theweeklysauce
It's nice to hear you say hello And how are things with you I love you But very soon it's time to go And off this job to do While I'm here writing songs for you
A playlist featuring Labi Siffre, R. Stevie Moore, Ted Hawkins, and others
This week’s update: A classic from the Mountain Goats, surf babe rock from Habibi, Zambian jams from Amanaz, a characteristic soul ballad from The O'Jays, a new joint from Turnover’s upcoming album, and more!!1!
Jack Conte | First Day of My Life (Bright Eyes, Aphex Twin mash-up)
Oh, little girl they just don't know About the weight that you carry in your soul They just don't know about the fright About the people and the things you like You know you've got nothing to prove The conversations borderline on rude And by the time you've had enough How do you tell the one you love?
This is the next song dropping off the list, so figured it would be my first featured tune hey.
you thought you had gotten rid of me huh?
you totally have. this is just a music blog from now on. follow the week sauce playlist on spotify- updated constantly, with weekly posts about the week’s new music coming up here. I figure my taste in music is p good, I could probably show you things you’ll like.
FFO: all kinds of jams
(via https://open.spotify.com/user/lauglelaugle/playlist/22IRPd0tm5il6CYGDdHeyY)
I had this dream. It was so vivid, but it was just me, many years older, sitting in a chair by myself, and then these really young kids who I assume were my grand children or great grandchildren, came into the room. Nothing happened, but I experienced what this older version of me was feeling. It was such an intense, complex feeling. I still can’t make much sense of it. But I tried to write about it. And I haven’t posted any writing in a while so I guess like.... here
A warm, well lit room where I waste away
the rest of my days Walls covered in books covered in dust- I’ve read them all before The days drag on and the months fly by month after quiet month The time I have left is short and getting shorter. I spend it living in time that’s already lost because the time I have left in my mind is worth less I spend it thinking about God and whether worms are the only thing ahead for me I am old. I make no pretenses even though in my dreams I can still run, and laughing is easy and chewing food doesn’t hurt my teeth I am still the man I was when I was young He is so close to me I can feel him if I am still until I move again and I feel my bones grind against each other. It is in these still, quiet moments when I am close to myself and close to God and so far from understanding any of it at all How can we live so long and know so little How can we live so long and never find the answers
It is in these still, quiet moments
I think about these children My children’s children’s children whose names I often forget They will be taller, stronger, smarter and yet they are the same They sit on my lap fidgety feather people on my boney thighs and I know they cannot understand the breadth and depth of the life they’ve just begun They do not know the weight of years There is so much living yet for them to do. It will go on and on and on. They will share a unique and intense love with someone who was once a stranger They will have children of their own who I will never meet They will grow old and gnarled and tired just like me There is so much life ahead of them Years piled on years And they have no idea I don’t know why but I begin to weep Perhaps they are tears of joy and pride or selfish regret for my unfulfilled potential or because I believe in these small, small people and the incredible things they will do the things they will know and learn I wonder what they will do with their time what they will still wonder I wonder if they will find the answers They are in these still, quiet moments
big cats playing
erinntuomifit me n u are the best friends hugging in the back
DIIV // Dopamine
Mike Love of the Beach Boys receives a printed dissertation written by his current wife detailing how he had failed in all of his previous romantic relationships. Though disturbed and downtrodden, he finishes reading and turns the final page. Reaching the bibliography, he notices that his wife has painstakingly credited each quote and anecdote in the paper to a specific woman that he had dated or married over his long and storied life. He looks up and stares blankly for a moment, his head spinning from all the information he has taken in. He regains his composure and smiles slightly. While chuckling, he mutters to himself, “She’s giving me ex citations.”
No stop
TUESDAY AGAIN NO PROBLEM
masterpiece