You could be the robot. FREE DOWNLOAD: "Just Like the B Movies"
You know those songs about how it could be "just like in the movies"? Well, I think I could share that desire, but in my case it would be B-movies. So here's a song.
Let me be the young Siberian boy Or the absence of clever ploys And twists And wistful pans and tilts
Let the dialogue be muffled As we carry our duffels Around town While the sound guy's boom mike wilts into the shot
And then you could be the maxed-out credit cards Or the sadistic prison guard Or the stretcher rolling into the emergency ward
Let us overact Let us speak abstractly straight into the lens And let us all wear black And let us simply lack an inkling of talent
Let the grain show On the grey snow It'll be just like the movies The B-movies
Let's be on Sunday afternoon On that channel you can never find I think it's 39 on my TV
Let's drag on for a hundred and twenty-eight minutes And still wish for it to never finish Let's strike a meaningful pose All clumsy and underexposed
And then you could be robot that can speak Or the identity the protagonist seeks Or the blatant disregard for technique
Let's be out of sync
Let us all be French And get one final chance before the cops show up And let's have epiphanies In the pivotal scene where there's a thunderstorm
Let's fall out But overcome our doubts Let's be shot on DV And go straight to TV Let's attain our goals Right before the credits roll And let the music swell Over the wedding bells
But let the grain show On the grey snow It'll be just like the movies The B-movies --------------
New round, new chances, I say So I'll impose some new rules on this game I'll adhere to geometry from now on
I'll live in squares Love in triangles Run in circles alone
But first here is a past I try to shake Rearrange the world to which I wake
Saramago on the boards next to the bed Your name inside my head Loving someone else instead But I'm not bothered
'Cause when the chords change it's all that does And I'm happy just because
You look like you're on holiday somewhere And I'm crying on the train, I'm almost there
I'll be teaching old tricks to new cats tonight And if I do it right I might just lose my mind But it's no substitute
For when the chords change it's all that does And I'm happy just because
So help me out of this observational comedy nightmare We treat like it's some cure for all despair If you joke about it, it doesn't make it go away So, well - new round, new chances, I say. --------------
Here I stand spitting similes like fire This king of bile fancies himself a master of style
And the girls will swoon, but they always do This game is no fun if you know the rules too well
So I've stopped trying 'Cause soon we'll be dying
So let's drink and not think too much now What comes down must go up again somehow
And in time we will all succumb to gravity It's the attraction of things bigger than you
All I am are the letters on these pages All I am are the pixels on your screen And all I speak is pretentious bathetic Still you've chosen to listen to me
So I'll keep trying While the notes are dying
So let's drink and not think too much now What comes around must go around again somehow
Here I stand spitting similes like fire Ripping pages from the poets you admire
For nothing beside remains Round the decay Of the fleeting, barren, unforgiving, pointless lives We love to live anyway. --------------
Maybe after this song. FREE DOWNLOAD: "Words, Girls, Chords, Colours"
And another, while we're at it. Last week I was playing around with some drum samples I sneakily made while recording Jałowski in September - while the band was having a break, I thought I would just record some separate drum hits to play around with. Among them was a toyish rototom loop which I ended up using as a rhythmic base for this writing demo.
The song itself is a snide yet hopeful diatribe against a defecting band member, and in a more general sense, an expression of a surviving belief in rock & roll.
Well isn't it always something else Put your pride back on the shelf And if you'll say: "It'll always be this way" I will not believe you
Caution ain't the only thing I've been known to throw to the wind So if you believe in what we're trying to achieve Then come make it so
There are not enough words and girls in my head To keep me entertained until I'm dead
I wish I had a camera for each time I suddenly, inexplicably feel alive 'Cause I feel old from all the souls I've sold To get by
There are not enough chords and colours in this world But we haven't seen them all, so give it a whirl
When all of this is over, who'll have won? When everyone just wants their place in the sun Internecine squabbles benefit none One day I'll burn all my bridges, maybe after this one Maybe after this song --------------
All music by Wolkenvelden is licensed under the Creative Commons Sample Plus License unless indicated otherwise. This means it's ok with me if you share it, as long as you don't make money off of it. click the image to find out more.
(9MB MP3) (lyrics)
