London Dancing
Nights in the United Kingdom can be hot and sticky with the help of these lovely lasses!
Dance your top hat off to the British beat from Girls Aloud, The Saturdays, Florence + The Machine, Cheryl Cole, and many more
What I Am
Our Version of Events
Tying down the rope on my neck and strung me down
Kick the chair under and let me drown
In tears of blood and salt water of the ocean
Of our lost love and affection
Never to realize that our hearts are true
Never to realize that I might still love you
Never compromise, always argue
Water and flame got more relationship than me and you
‘Cause the one just kills the other
and be better off without her
But I just can’t seem to realize that I might still love you
Never again can I cry like when I was still with you
Never again can I dance to this careless whispers that aren’t true
When all I can think of, baby,
is what could’ve happen maybe
If only you’d believe my version of the events that we now go through
But you say, “No”
“Just let me go”
Could you please at least give me a round of applause
I’m good at this. I’m living this…
Lies and deception is an art of perfection
That only your love can see through
My eyes are burning, all the smoke from the fire
My stomach’s churning, all the jerks and the liars
Even I don’t understand the very words that I say to her
When the “I love you”s lose its meaning With all the joys and the laughter
So take me down, relief me now
Can you at least lie to a liar I happen to know
“I love you. Yes, I still care about you”
Because this is the version of events that we chose to believe too
Disclaimer:
This is not the lyric to any Emeli Sande songs in the album, let alone the title track.
I was just really inspired by that exact phrase, “Our Version of Events” that this poem/lyric came about, feeling like a venting of a pent up… I don’t even know what.
Oh, and I was listening to her “Read All About It part 3” song too, so I guess that’s the overall feel of this song…or “non-song”?. I don’t know, I wish I got more musical prowess under my belt to actually write a tune to this. Anybody up for it?
The purpose of life’s journey is not
to arrive at the grave safely, on time and in a well preserved body,
but rather to skid in sideways at the last possible second, totally worn out, shouting, “Holy Mother of God…What a Ride!”
#7Sins
I am the greener grass
I am the steamed up mirror that you stared at when you stripped out of your clothes in the bathroom
I am the shady Internet sites
I am the gravitational pull your bed seems to magically develop on a Monday morning
I am the stressed desserts
I am the broken chip of vase that hurts your toes after you smashed me to bits and pieces
I am an Apple product
