Thursday, August 26, 2010

Goals. I Have Them.

I feel like I should audition for the next American Idol. How have I not already thought of this?

Now....what would I sing....


UPDATE: Obviously, there's only one song I should even consider.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Good idea. Here are the lyrics...

The wintergreen, the juniper, the cornflower and the chicory
All the words you said to me still vibrating in the air
The elm, the ash and the linden tree, the dark and deep, enchanted sea
The trembling moon and the stars unfurled
Well there she goes, my beautiful world

There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes again

John Wilmot penned his poetry riddled with the pox
Nabokov wrote on index cards, at a lectern, in his socks
St. John of the Cross did his best stuff imprisoned in a box
And Johnny Thunders was half alive when he wrote Chinese Rocks

Well, me, I'm lying here, with nothing in my ears
Me, I'm lying here, with nothing in my ears
Me, I'm lying here, for what seems years
I'm just lying on my bed with nothing in my head

Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me

There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes again

Karl Marx squeezed his carbuncles while writing Das Kapital
And Gauguin, he buggered off, man, and went all tropical
While Philip Larking stuck it out in a library in Hull
And Dylan Thomas died drunk in St. Vincent's hospital

I will kneel at your feet, I will lie at your door
I will rock you to sleep, I will roll on the floor
And I'll ask for nothing, nothing in this life
I'll ask for nothing, give me ever-lasting life

[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/there-she-goes-my-beautiful-world-lyrics-nick-cave-the-bad-seed.html ]


I just want to move the world
I just want to move the world
I just want to move the world
I just want to move

There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes again

So if you got a trumpet, get on your feet, brother, and blow it
If you've got a field, that don't yield, well get up and hoe it
I look at you and you look at me and deep in our hearts know it
That you weren't much of a muse, but then I weren't much of a poet

I will be your slave, I will peel you grapes
Up on your pedestal with your ivory and apes
With your book of ideas, with your alchemy
O come on send that stuff on down to me

Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me
Send it all around the world
'Cause here she comes, my beautiful girl

There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, there she goes
There she goes again

There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes again