rediscovered music, undiscovered countries

Rainer Maria, which I haven't listened to in for more than a year. 

I played all the songs, and I still know every sigh, every gasp and note. 

The Queen is Dead, specifically "cemetry gates" (sic) which I'm listening to right now, in a live track from Rank.  this is maybe my favorite Smiths song of all time, due to the lyrics. 

A dreaded sunny day
So I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
While Wilde is on mine

So we go inside and we gravely read the stones
All those people, all those lives
Where are they now ?
With loves, and hates
And passions just like mine
They were born
And then they lived
And then they died
It seems so unfair
I want to cry


You say : "'Ere thrice the sun done salutation to the dawn"
And you claim these words as your own
But I've read well, and I've heard them said
A hundred times (maybe less, maybe more)
If you must write prose/poems
The words you use should be your own
Don't plagiarise or take "on loan"
'Cause there's always someone, somewhere
With a big nose, who knows
And who trips you up and laughs
When you fall
Who'll trip you up and laugh
When you fall


You say : "'Ere long done do does did"
Words which could only be your own
And then produce the text
From whence was ripped
(Some dizzy whore, 1804)


A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're happy
And I meet you at the cemetry gates
Oh, Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're wanted
And I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
But you lose
'Cause weird lover Wilde is on mine


Sure !

I just finished my Chaucer paper, and I'm feeling light and happy and woozy.  Not induced by anything other than the satisfaction of finishing a hard paper.  how weird is that. 

anyway, invisible xanga readers, much love to you from prophetmargin, and may your days be as happy as mine is.