Sunday, 28 June 2009

Thought for the day

I get up in the evening
and I ain't got nothing to say
I come home in the morning
I go to bed feeling the same way
I ain't nothing but tired
Man I'm just tired and bored with myself
Hey there baby, I could use just a little help

You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark

Message keeps getting clearer
radio's on and I'm moving 'round the place
I check my look in the mirror
I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man I ain't getting nowhere
I'm just living in a dump like this
There's something happening somewhere
baby I just know that there is

You can't start a fire
you can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark

You sit around getting older
there's a joke here somewhere and it's on me
I'll shake this world off my shoulders
come on baby this laugh's on me

Stay on the streets of this town
and they'll be carving you up alright
They say you gotta stay hungry
hey baby I'm just about starving tonight
I'm dying for some action
I'm sick of sitting 'round here trying to write this book
I need a love reaction
come on now baby gimme just one look

You can't start a fire sitting 'round crying over a broken heart
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
You can't start a fire worrying about your little world falling apart
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
- Bruce Springsteen, Dancing in the Dark

Meanwhile, my Glasto week so far: Had ticket, didn't go. Fell to my knees watching the Dead Weather's secret gig on my girlfriend's TV. Sprung to my feet again when I saw the crowds and remembered my enochlophobia [fear of racist politicians]. Caught the Fleet Foxes in Hyde Park yesterday, one hundred yards from the comfort of my girlfriend's bathroom. Heard Neil Young from her front room. Had a Glasto sympathy-in-exile party (in W1) last night. Got slammed and almost licked the big screen watching the Boss. Endless breathless texts from my sister. Going to see Springsteen in the park today. Got ants in my pants.

P.S. Good man.

No comments: