Tuesday, November 25, 2008

passing by with every exit sign . . .

I love to post lyrics. I hate to read them when someone else does though.
Internally, music is a holistic experience. It amazes me how many people don't actually listen to the words in a song. Quite often my friends say "Oh, I just hear the beat." Interesting.
A song would not be a song if it were not for the words that the artist is putting on top, or underneath, or alongside the rest of the music.
Sometimes when I listen to a song I see a dance, or rather a general movement or shape that goes along with it. Like where people would be, and what kind of shapes they would make in their groupings and then within their movement. In simple terms: I check out when I listen to music.

Either way, if you don't like to read lyrics then just find the song. But I am posting it because besides loving the entirety of the song, I am in a place right now that identifies with the words...

"What a day" by Greg Laswell.

What a day to be alive
What a day to realize I'm not dead
What a day to save a dime
What a day to die trying

What a way to say good bye
What a wonderful life now
What a way to use your mind
What a day to say good night

"Bring on the evening hours," I cry
"Bring on the evidence of my life"
(My life)

What a day to give a damn
What a day for "Gone with the Wind"
And what a day to start again
What a day to give up dry gin

"Bring on the evening hours," I cry
"Bring on the evidence of my life"
"Bring on the evening hours," I cry
"Bring on the evidence of my life"

Let it go
Let it go from here, I don't know
Let it go
Let it go from here, I don't know
Don't know

What a day to visit Seattle
What a day for San Francisco
What a day, holy Toldeo
What a day to get in the air and go
What a day to give up smoking
What a day to absorb
What a day to welcome a baby
And to begin breathing

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