Tag Archives: lyrics

Last

This poem was written six days before she committed suicide, and is believed to be her last poem.

It gives me chills.

I’ve been a big Sylvia Plath fan for a long time, and there are two songs about her that I love.

First up: Crackle and Drag by Paul Westerberg.

What’s the matter here?

You never repair

The lady’s cursed with insight

You never fix her, with a cold stare

She’s all broken inside

She made a good go, like a weeping willow

Her limbs clung to the ground

She closed the window, and made a pillow

And lay her head down

And as her baby slept, she took a long deep breath

Now they’re zipping her up in a bag

Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag

And the Cadillac’s waiting to take her away

Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag

Another head cold, another spirit old

Mmmm, Febuary

Her hair was dirty, and she was 30 in 1963

And while her baby slept she took a long deep breath

And they’re zipping her up in a bag

Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag

The Cadillac’s waiting to take her away

Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag

And drag, and drag, and drag

She made a good go, for a weeping willow

She stuffed some rags on the floor

She closed the window

She made a pillow on the oven door

And took a long deep breath

While her baby slept

Now they’re zipping her up in a bag

Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag

And the Cadillac’s waiting to take her away

Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag

They’re zipping her up in a bag

Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag

The Cadillac’s waiting to take her away

Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag

Hear her blacks crackle and drag

❤️❤️❤️

And then there’s Sylvia Plath by Ryan Adams:

I wish I had a Sylvia Plath

Busted tooth and a smile

And cigarette ashes in her drink

The kind that goes out and then sleeps for a week

The kind that goes out on her

To give me a reason, for well, I dunno

And maybe she’d take me to France

Or maybe to Spain and she’d ask me to dance

In a mansion on the top of a hill

She’d ash on the carpets

And slip me a pill

Then she’d get pretty loaded on gin

And maybe she’d give me a bath

How I wish I had a Sylvia Plath

And she and I would sleep on a boat

And swim in the sea without clothes

With rain falling fast on the sea

While she was swimming away, she’d be winking at me

Telling me it would all be okay

Out on the horizon and fading away

And I’d swim to the boat and I’d laugh

I gotta get me a Sylvia Plath

And maybe she’d take me to France

Or maybe to Spain and she’d ask me to dance

In a mansion on the top of a hill

She’d ash on the carpets

And slip me a pill

Then she’d get pretty loaded on gin

And maybe she’d give me a bath

How I wish I had a Sylvia Plath

I wish I had a Sylvia Plath

❤️❤️❤️

Nobody writes lyrics like Fiona ❤️

From Ladies –

Ruminations on the looming effect
And the parallax view, and the figure
And the form, and the revolving door that keeps
Turning out more and more
Good women like you
Yet another woman, to whom I won’t get through

…

Ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies
Take it easy, when he leaves me, please be my guest
To whatever I might’ve left
In his kitchen cupboards, in the back of his bathroom cabinets
And oh yes, oh yes, oh yes
There’s a dress in the closet, don’t get rid of it, you’d look good in it
I didn’t fit in it, it was never mine
It belonged to the ex wife of another ex of mine
She left it behind, with a note
One line it said, “I don’t know if I’m coming across, but I’m really trying”
She was very kind

…

Nobody can replace anybody else
So, it would be a shame to make it a competition
And no love is like any other love
So, it would be insane to make a comparison with you

And meanwhile i’m loving you so much

My current favorite off the new album, with which I am completely obsessed btw, in a way that only women who came to age in a very specific time in the late 90s can be (oh hello, class of 97).

 

I gave you pictures and cards on non-holidays
And it wasn’t because I was bored
I followed you from room to room
With no attention
And it wasn’t because I was bored
It was because I was loving you so much
It’s the only reason I gave my time to you
And that’s it, there’s a kick and you’ve given up
‘Cause you know you won’t like it
When there’s nothing to do
Check out that rack of his
Look at that row of guitar necks
Lined up like eager fillies
Outstretched like legs of Rockettes
They don’t know what they are in for
And they don’t care, but I do
I thought you would wail on me
Like you wail on them
But it was just a coochie-coo-coo
And meanwhile I’m loving you so much
It’s the only reason
I gave my time to you
And that’s it, there’s a kick and you’ve given up
‘Cause you know you won’t like it
When there’s nothing to do
Meanwhile I’m loving you so much
It’s the only reason
That I gave my time to you
And that’s it, there’s a kick and you’ve given up
‘Cause you know you don’t like it
When there’s nothing to do
And I’ve been used so many times
I’ve learned to use myself in kind
I tried to drum
I tried to write
I can’t do Orville, oh well that’s fine
I guess ’cause I know how to spend my time
(I know how to spend my time)
(I know how to spend my time)
(I know how to spend my time)
(I know how to spend my time)
(And meanwhile I’m loving you so much)
(Meanwhile I’m loving you so much)
(Meanwhile I’m loving you so much)
(Meanwhile I’m loving you so much)
(Meanwhile I’m loving you so much)
**I remember feeling this type of pining, semi-obsessive love for my (now) husband way back in the day before we had really hit our stride, and I think that is why I love this song so much. We had a rocky road in the beginning, and sometimes I wasn’t sure if he actually cared about me or not, but I was oh so very much enamored of him. Still am; except now I know he’s just as enamored of me. It’s the best feeling in the world.

Poor Song

Baby I’m afraid of a lot of things
But I ain’t scared of lovin’ you
Baby I know you’re afraid of a lot of things 
But don’t be scared of love 
‘Cause people will say all kinds of things 
That don’t mean a damn to me 
‘Cause all I see 
Is what’s in front of me 
That’s you 
Well I’ve been dragged 
All over the place
I’ve taken hits 
Time just don’t erase
And baby I can see 
You’ve been fucked with too 
But that don’t mean 
Your loving days are through
‘Cause people will say 
All kinds of things 
That don’t mean a damn to me
‘Cause all I see is what’s in front of me
That’s you
Well I may be just a fool
But I know you’re just as cool 
And cool kids 
They belong together

– Karen O (YYY)

SOMETHING OF AN END

This had me in my feels on the drive home from the office today. (Otherwise, it was quite enjoyable to get out of the house for a few hours).

img_0574

When you came jumping down the stairs
Screaming bloody awful
You woke up God and everyone
Screaming bloody awful

So we took you to the doctor
He said yeah it’s a bad one
And it’s such a shame about it
‘Cause she’s so pretty

And then the earth started shaking
And yeah it was crazy
Heaven and hell came crashing down
And then the earth started shaking
Yeah it was crazy
Heaven and hell came crashing
They came crashing

It was beautiful and terrible
So beautiful and terrible

The phone call
You never expect
Did somebody get it yet
It’s a sound you never forget

Because the earth starts shaking
And yeah it’s crazy
Heaven and hell come crashing down
And then the earth starts shaking
Yeah it’s so crazy
Heaven and hell come crashing
They come crashing
They come cr-cr-crashing

It’s so beautiful and terrible
So beautiful and terrible

It was something of an end
Of a lovely and a wild thing
So beautiful in the morning
You’re beautiful
So beautiful
You’re beautiful in the morning

And I can’t seem to get it through your head
No matter what I do
I can’t seem to get it through your head
That I always love you

 

**If you have never listened to My Brightest Diamond you are missing out. Her sound is haunting and beautiful. I first discovered her back in the early 2000’s when she opened for The Decemberists at The Pageant.

Red, Red, Red ❤️

I don’t understand about
The weather outside
Or the harmony in a tune
Or why somebody lied
But there’s solace a bit in submitting
To the fitfully, cryptically true
What’s happened, has happened
What’s coming is already on its way
With a role for me to play
And I don’t understand
I never understand
But I’m trying to understand
There’s nothing else I can do

-Fiona Apple