Paris, tu me manques

This track, written and performed by a Parisian darling friend of mine, has caused me to miss the city of love terribly. I must return there soon.

You don't know-oh-oh

I just can't help myself. One Direction make my life better. I watched the above numbers back four times last night, much to the disgust of my mother and the cat. I squealed, squawked, squirmed, shook and screamed - they're so fucking amazing, and I'm such a rampant fan girl that I cannot even put it in to words. Time to go flick through my OD calendar again and try to calm down...

I would still be on my feet

My love for this song has once again be rekindled. It takes me right back to Paris and Penny and Lainne's fateful night at La Cigalle where we met the beautiful-Elvis-Costello-playing-Sebastien, as well as Mr Blake himself. How this video, featuring the lovely Rebecca Hall, has evaded my attentions until today is beyond me, but I'll say this much - I fucking love it.

Shameless

Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan, ultimate. Date night is set for The Old Maid and her Loyal Minder...

She made me love

It's actually painful to hear, it's that gorgeously bitter-sweetly beautiful. "she made me love..." 

You'll be holding all the tickets and I'll be paying all the fines

Who's gonna love you?
Who's gonna fall far behind?

So, when it comes to songs such as the above, it is quite tragically painfully difficult to remember, three to four years on, quite how much they meant to you. Once all your friends, your falacies and your foes start raving about itm and the facebook status' that used to be obscure soon become predictable...

Once theings as lovely and pure and raw and as wonderfully wordily, lyrically and luxuriously lovely as this end up trending on twitter and being tattooed on indie/emo girl's fat thighs, they lose that certain je ne sais quoi...

But, then again, Skinny Love, even now, means the world to me, and more.

Toothpaste Kisses

Dedicated especially for my leggy lady (and of course, to Little Miss Birthday Brat - Penny Lainne).

All my love, forever ever more. 

Youth is a loveless furrowed brow

...
Nervously beneath you. 
And now we will discover each other with every word that we both know. 
In between the sunset flow.
And I couldn't care less about your mother...
Do you know that I couldn't have one so fair just last year...
And as a foreigner here, excuse my longing for a lone lie and not a hope in hell,
Cos it's sad that I'm not at home
And if I change it's nice to know that soon i'll change back into your shadow.
And that's the truth, self-grown, and youth is a loveless furrowed brow.
...

Put your trust in me, you're not gonna die alone

Well prove to me,
I'm not gonna die alone.
Put your arm round my collar bone
Open the door.

Don't lie to me
If you're puttin' the dog to sleep.
That pet you just couldn't keep
And couldn't afford.

Well prove to me,
I'm not gonna die alone.
Unstitch that shit I've sewn,
To close up the hole that tore through my skin.

Well my trust in you
Is a dog with a broken leg,
Tendons to torn to fix,
And you let me back in

You said
I can't prove to you
You're not gonna die alone,
But trust me to take you home
and clean up that blood all over your paws.

You can't keep running out.
Kicking yourself off the bed,
Kicking yourself in the head,
Because, you're kiciking me too.

Put your trust in me,
I'm not gonna die alone.
Put your trust in me,
I'm not gonna die alone.
I don't think so.

Put your trust in me,
I'm not gonna die alone.
Put your trust in me,
I'm not gonna die alone,
I don't think so.



eenie meenie

the feeling that i just fucked the wrong guy is overwhelming. but then again is it? maybe this time the wrong guy's the right guy. maybe they're both wrong. im definitely in the wrong. am i?


hoping the answers lie in the perfectly rolled cigarette he left on my dresser.
and im feeling like an eenie MEANY. bitch.

I falter

So, let's face it,
This was never what you wanted.


But I know, it's fun to pretend.
And now blank stares and empty threats are all I have.
They're all I have.


So drown me, and if you can,
Or we could just have conversation?


And I fall, I fall, I falter...
But I found you, before I drift away.


Now you still speak of day old hate.
Though your whole world has gone up in to flames.


And isn't it great to find that you're really worth nothing?
And how safe it is to feel safe?


So drown me, and if you can,
Or we could just have conversation?


And I fall, I fall, I falter.
But I found you, before I drift away.


The things we do just to stay alive.
The things we do just to stay alive...


The things we do just to stay alive.
The things that we do just to keep ourselves alive.

Home is where I want to be, but I guess I'm already there

I guess that this must be the place?

Patten's sweet suggestive vocal contributions compliment Mills' luscious, richly textured vocal perfectly. I think I'm in love with this. 

Such a tremendous cover of one of my favourite all time songs beats even this. Sorry baby boys, (Brooklyn will have to wait...).

Don't leave my hyper heart alone

It's in my honey, it's in my milk.

Colour Blind

The man I love is colour blind.
It's sad because I, myself, am colour.

The man I love is colour blind.
It's sad because he does not see me.

The man I love is colour blind.
It's sad because if he cannot see me, I am rendered invisible.
It's sad because if I am invisible to the man I love, how can the man I love, love me?

I miss, part one

I miss sunshiney Pimms picnics on the castle tourist pit of a lawn, up by the sket hole that is BZR in Nottingham city centre.
I miss sharing a smile Nana Dawg as we smirked smugly at poor Wally, long before he lost himself in angular pretention. I remember the olives, the feta, the grease caught sneakily beneath the finger nails and the grimey sight of mediterranean herbs caught between your perfect teeth.
I miss the days of the haze. The warm pints of cider, sipped from crooked lips smeared with last night's lipstick and alcohol. I miss the days of the haze. The harsh discussions of literature, musicality, lyricism and film. European cinema was your forte baby, but I was, at the time, too vain to care, preferring instead the gossip surrounding my beloved Brooklyn boys, the bands and the bastards, the kisses and broken promises. I prefered the frosting to the sponge of your perfect non-birthday cake. You smothered your cheek bones with the moist sponge, whipped up for you in my frenzy of ever-ageing love and respect.

You're so worth my while. And baby girl, you always fucking will be.

When the lights are cutting out

 Written in your signed armistice.

The world's a mess

and you're my only cure.

The only words I know are

More.

More.

And more.

People keep pushing me though

and i'm thinking

they said they'd be here they said.

right, i'm gonna plan.

borrow water off this man, and i'm thinking.

people pushing by and walking off in to the night.

You have seen some unbelievable things

Hater, I have your diamonds.
And still, cos you have seen some unbelievable things.

I'm so lonesome I could cry