Teiresia's Polyvore

For my history class.

Voltaire is the bomb.
 

("Voltaire, hair. Personally, I'd like to learn about Voltaire.")

Pure procrastination.

To get me in the mood for my research paper on the Gunpowder Plot of 1605.

I LOVE the bright eyes.
 
Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe
There's people always dying trying to keep them alive
There's bodies decomposing in containers tonight
In an abandoned building where
The squatters made a mural of a Mexican girl
With fifteen cans of spray paint in a chemical swirl
She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world
Four Winds blowing through her hair
 
But when Great Satan's gone... the Whore of Babylon...
She just can't sustain the pressure will displace
She caves
 
The Bible's blind. The Torah's deaf. The Qu'ran is mute.
If you burned them all together you’d get close to the truth
Still they’re pouring over Sanskrit under Ivy League moons
While shadows lengthen the sun
Cast on a school and meditation built to soften the times
And hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds
It's knocking over fences, crossing property lines
Four Winds cry until it comes
 
It's the Sum of Man slouching towards Bethlehem
A heart just can't contain all of that empty space
It breaks. It breaks. It breaks.
 
Well I went back by rented Cadillac and company jet
Like a newly orphaned refugee retracing my steps
All the way to Cassadaga to commune with the dead
They said, "You'd better look alive"
And now it’s off to old Dakota where a genocide sleeps
In the Black Hills, the Badlands, the calloused East
I buried my ballast. I made my peace.
 
Heard Four Winds leveling the pines
 
But when Great Satan's gone, the Whore of Babylon
She just can't remain with all that outer space
She breaks. She breaks. She caves. She caves.

my take on things. (keane's take, really)
they sadly cut out some bits of the song, but here is the music video.
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9O_0Z_j15k
 
I shake through the wreckage for signs of life
Scrolling through the paragraphs
Clicking through the photographs
 
I wish I could make sense of what we do
Burning down the capitals
The wisest of the animals
 
Who are you? What are you living for?
Tooth for tooth, maybe we'll go one more
 
This life, is lived in perfect symmetry
What I do, that will be done to me
 
Read page after page of analysis
Looking for the final score
We're no closer than we were before
 
Who are you? What are you fighting for?
Holy truth? Brother I choose this mortal life
 
Lived in perfect symmetry
What I do, that will be done to me
As the needle slips into the run-out groove
Love - maybe you'll feel it too
 
And maybe you'll find life is unkind
And over so soon
There is no golden gate
There's no heaven waiting for you
 
Oh boy you ought to leave this town
Get out while you can the meter's running down
The voices in the streets you love
Everything is better when you hear that sound
Woooaohhh
Woooaohhh
Woooaohhh
 
Spineless dreamers hide in churches
Pieces of pieces of rush hour buses
I dream in emails, worn-out phrases
Mile after mile of just empty pages
 
Wrap yourself around me
Wrap yourself around me
As the needle slips into the run-out groove
Maybe I'll feel it too
Maybe you'll feel it too
Maybe you'll feel it too
Maybe you'll feel it too
 
I dream in emails, worn out phrases
Mile after mile of just empty pages

A great film.