I Want To Talk About Music...

...because it is the only thing that makes sense.

A Decade Under the Influence By Taking Back Sunday

Play your angry music for me in a rhythm I can bob my head to as if cocking my head back was like cocking back a gun, and shoot your notes of pain into my heart. Let me get high off of those high notes you scream into my ear till I can't hear anymore. "I've got a bad feeling about this." Rinse and Repeat. When will my repetitive anger finally go unchallenged? Let me end my song with a question and let me have my own catharsis before you ruin it with your answers. Just cry with me and scream so loud with me that you lose your breath.

Innocent Again By Switchfoot

Your lyrics are too good to be true, you Christian rock band, but your melodies and rhythm are so good I cannot deny it. I cannot do anything but sing along to it, remembering the grace of my own life. Your truth is too hard to hear, too freeing to hear. I'm not used to running around naked on the courtyard, devoid of the world holding me down. I have been accustomed to the walls that hold me in, been accustomed to feeling guilt. Can I be innocent again? Why doesn't anyone else hear these lyrics? Why does everyone else get so lost in the music, they forget about the music? Let me run wild again as the innocent child I am made to be! or else I just might get lost in the music, get lost in a world where I have forgotten innocence, when I'd rather forget myself.

The Freshmen By Vervepipe

Calm me down with your memories of freshmen year, so that I can pretend I know what you're talking about, but the title alone allows me to remember nothing but my freshman year of something, some period of life when I was young, when I was lost, when I was immature, when I was innocent, when I had hope. I still don't know what you're saying, but you screaming "we were merely freshmen" rings clearly in my mind. Feelings of "Allow me to go back" and "I can't believe I was so dumb to be there" clash like some interracial marriage. I still don't know what you're talking about. I still don't know what I'm talking about. But let us just scream the chorus over and over again, so that memories can prolong in my head, so that notes can flesh out the subconscious pain in my heart, so that you can end on a note that makes sense, and so that my life and this blog can continue to make smaller sense.

Stars By David Crowder Band

My life does not make any sense. My feelings do not make any sense. If you were to ask me how I was really doing, I would tell you, "I'm feeling angry, delighted, disappointed, elated, excited, tired, pumped, upset, lost, found." instead of "Fine." I am a complicated individual and my mind gets so wrapped in trying to decipher itself that I begin to lose it. And then songs like this come on, and I realize I don't have to do this. Allow me to lay back on the grass that is really my bed (I write grass for poetic purposes), and look at the stars outside my window, so that I can think of nothing, but stars. I can be struck by such beauty that I am lost in it. And once again, I have become lost in you, while at the same time, I'm found in you. And now, music is not the only thing that makes sense.