Saturday, December 05, 2009

#15 of the 00s - The National

If music took structure and albums were rooms and places, the National would be... the dusty attic in your parents' house in the country, dried up with cobwebs in the corners, with the light invading through cracks in the boarded up windows, where -adult now, visiting - you'd sit alone in the corner with your headphones on, hiding away from the world and your friends for hours and days. Comfortable, comforting and cowardly.

15. The National - Boxer

You have to do it running but you do everything that they ask you to
cause you don't mind seeing yourself in a picture
as long as you look faraway, as long as you look removed
showered and blue-blazered, fill yourself with quarters

You get mistaken for strangers by your own friends
when you pass them at night under the silvery, silvery citibank lights
arm in arm in arm and eyes and eyes glazing under
oh you wouldn't want an angel watching over
surprise, surprise they wouldn't wannna watch
another uninnocent, elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults


Falling out of touch with all my
friends are somewhere getting wasted,
hope they're staying glued together,
I have arms for them.


Well stay inside til somebody finds us
do whatever the TV tells us
stay inside our rosy-minded fuzz for days


We expected something, something better than before.
We expected something more
Do you really think you can just put it in a safe behind a painting, lock it up and leave
Walk away now and you're gonna start a war


They're gonna send us to prison for jerks
for having vague ideas of the way to turn each other on again

They'll find us here here here in the guest room
where we throw money at each other and cry, oh my

We miss being ruffians


Ada don't talk about reasons
why you don't want to talk about reasons
why you don't wanna talk
We're half-awake in a fake empire
You might need me more than you think you will