I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte (colubra) wrote,
I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte
colubra

You know what? fuck Harry Connick Jr.


They're writing songs of love, but not for me.
A lucky star's above, but not for me.
With love to lead the way
I've found more clouds of grey
than any Russain play could guarantee.
I was a fool to fall and get that way;
Heigh-ho! Alas! And also, lack-a-day!
Although I can't dismiss the mem'ry of his kiss,
I guess he's not for me.

He's knocking on a door, but not for me.
He'll plan a two by four, but not for me.
I know that love's a game;
I'm puzzled, just the same,
was I the moth or flame?
I'm all at sea.
It all began so well, but what an end!
This is the time a fella needs a friend,
when ev'ry happy plot ends with the marriage knot,
and there's no knot for me.

It's intended to be a bit self-mocking and amused with one's own foibles, darnit. Connick fucked up his cover of it.
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  • (no subject)

    So at the show I went to last night, I'm pretty sure that 1 of the 2 people I spotted who were older than me was the father of someone in the band…

  • (no subject)

    For those following along at home: someone was repeatedly shrieking at the top of his lungs, not 30' from my building, last I went out to smoke.…

  • Writer's Block: Free your mind

    I do. However, I think the answer to making this happen is roughly my approach to encouraging it: simply not voicing the racist bullshit that you…