Ode to divorce - Regina Spektor
The food that I’m eating
Is suddenly tasteless
I know I’m alone now
I know what it tastes like
So break me to small parts
Let go in small doses
But spare some for spare parts
There might be some good ones
Like you might make a dollar
I’m inside your mouth now
Behind your tonsils
Peeking over your molars
You’re talking to her now
And you’ve eaten something minty
And you’re making that face that I like
And you’re going in, in for the kill, kill
For the killer kiss, kiss for the kiss, kiss
I need your money, it’ll help me
I need your car and I need your love
So won’t you help a brother out?
Won’t you help a brother out?
---
My iPod, faithful (and defiantly nameless) companion for three years, is finally dying. The battery was the first to go; it only stays on for a couple of minutes. Now, it's the backlight. I still lug the mammoth (so weird and bulky-looking beside the spiffy new models) around, though, plugging it in my work computer so I could listen to the songs I've collected over the years. The boy got me a Creative Zen V Plus for Christmas, but I only use it on Sundays when I listen to my praise and worship lineup and need that extra bass. (My iPod's earphones have long been retired; I now use a cheap Sony one). Sigh. Letting go is hard to do.
The food that I’m eating
Is suddenly tasteless
I know I’m alone now
I know what it tastes like
So break me to small parts
Let go in small doses
But spare some for spare parts
There might be some good ones
Like you might make a dollar
I’m inside your mouth now
Behind your tonsils
Peeking over your molars
You’re talking to her now
And you’ve eaten something minty
And you’re making that face that I like
And you’re going in, in for the kill, kill
For the killer kiss, kiss for the kiss, kiss
I need your money, it’ll help me
I need your car and I need your love
So won’t you help a brother out?
Won’t you help a brother out?
---
My iPod, faithful (and defiantly nameless) companion for three years, is finally dying. The battery was the first to go; it only stays on for a couple of minutes. Now, it's the backlight. I still lug the mammoth (so weird and bulky-looking beside the spiffy new models) around, though, plugging it in my work computer so I could listen to the songs I've collected over the years. The boy got me a Creative Zen V Plus for Christmas, but I only use it on Sundays when I listen to my praise and worship lineup and need that extra bass. (My iPod's earphones have long been retired; I now use a cheap Sony one). Sigh. Letting go is hard to do.
