DurAnorak (duranorak) wrote,
DurAnorak
duranorak

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More Rufus Wainwright plugging and stuff.

Because you've never heard anything quite like him.

Mum and dad keep asking me if I'm ok, and I don't know why, because I am, but they never notice when I'm not. Don't get it.

----> Rufus Wainwright, 'Poses' :

the yellow walls are lined with portraits and I've got my new red fetching leather jacket all these poses such beautiful poses makes any boy feel like picking up roses there's never been such grave a matter as comparing our new brand name black sunglasses all these poses such beautiful poses makes any boy feel as pretty as princes the green autumnal parks conducting all the city streets a wondrous chorus singing all these poses oh how can you blame me life is a game and true love is a trophy and you said watch my head about it baby...oh no...no kidding reclined amongst these packs of reasons for to smoke the days away into the evenings all these poses of classical torture ruined my mind like a snake in the orchard I did go from wanting to be someone now I'm drunk and wearing flip-flops on fifth avenue once you've fallen from classical virtue won't have a soul for to wake up and hold you in the green autumnal parks conducting all the city streets a wondrous chorus singing all these poses now no longer boyish made me a man ah but who cares what that is...

Gosh, wasn't last night's entry a miserable one? Dear me, I'm very sorry about that. Never mind - I've been through this before and I'll go through it again. (Now there's something to look forward to!)

----> Rufus Wainwright, 'Evil Angel' :

for to see my depth of sorrow you are not allowed to follow me into this town square and then run away evil angel with your cleft tongue when you kissed me on this town square all the lights came on at sunset thought you'd stay evil angel bearing apples when you kissed me on this drawbridge as the boats do how was I to know you'd flee tear down these monuments bury the coat of arms and build for me a factory evil angel when you're faced with hatred's daggers in my honour you're no match no scratching hearts that no longer bleed oh evil angel tear down the monuments evil angel bury the coat of arms and rebuild for me these memories for to see my depth of sorrow...

Well, I think today's going to involve a lot of sorting and fiddling about with records and things like that. So I suppose I'd better get doing that!

E.
x

"Playing with prodigal sons takes a lot of sentimental valiums can't expect the world to be your raggedy andy" --Rufus Wainwright, 'Cigarettes And Chocolate Milk'
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