Measure the Speed with which you walk away in beats per minute
Posted by Scotter
Post-dusk on a bustling city street. Work-week ending shuffle and scurry. Blare of street light. Blare of headlight. Blare of passersby. And all I can think about is getting the hell out of this mess as fast as I can. And all I can think about is the need to make all of this a bit more swallowable. And all I can think about is a need for some kind of intensity. And Interpol is doing it to me again. “For me,” I should say.
Post-dusk work-week ending blare of intensity that swallows this mess.
The MP3 above shant help you. If you don’t yet have Antics on your Pod or the disc available to your Discman, you must. You must walk it. It must be night. You must be exhausted. You must not be sleepy. The need to dodge or pass other souls on this walk is optional, but preferable. Look into the faces. “Then they’ll be watching you sometimes, with their bitter hearts.” Blare at their eyes. “See the living that surrounds me.” Blare at the headlights of the cars. “Is this motion everlasting or do shudders pass in the night.” Blare your exhaustion. “I’ll subtract pain by ounces.” Measure the speed with which you walk away in beats per minute.
Posted by Scotter
The mp3 of “Evil” will be removed in two weeks, unless Interpol requests it be removed earlier when they come to get me.
z0zzy wrote:
time is a like a broken watch, i make money like, fred astaire
Posted on 08-Nov-06 at 9:43 am | Permalink