romantic views from an apathetic asexual

So, I've decided that listening to Beirut while walking around is very, very deadly to my Self.

But only their good music i.e.: not the recent double EP. While I enjoy a few songs off of it, I just don't get the emotional surge I get from their older albums. Views of the east Carpathians mingling with the feeling of my body floating down the Rhine... we travel years to get this far. Ahh.

THIS THIS THIS http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mu73fNsCeno
The backup vocals, even the slight issue in quality, the sound of screams as they pull St. Apollonia's teeth one by one from her mouth, her eyes wide in the terror yet she accepts her fate with such dignity and grace that her bloodied maw is reminiscent of wine rather than the torn and tattered face of a young girl and I--


was never there for her in the first place, what would I know?

---

Mount Wroclai haunts me in dream and waking. I can feel the dreary tape recorder as it echoes back last night's terrors and in this I know reality from truth, for in the walls we live there is never a True so much as a What-Once-Was, which in turn is not true at all. The mountain we have become infatuated with never existed outside of the mural in our old farmhouse, and without this painting it would never have been at all. Rain rain rain upon the windowpane and I can only sit and listen listen! as they whisper from beneath the floorboards, the ones who I have forgotten as time grows old in the clock's weary face. Tic toc toc toc...

And I know winter will pass by slow
Without my heart what can I do...
In the halls a bell gives way to a larger swell
Without my heart what can I do...

Mount Wroclai
Mount Wroclai
Mount Wroclai
Mount Wroclai

And we grow fat on the charms of our idle dreary days
Seen the shadows grow, See an ominous display
With no alarm, couldn't say we had expected this way
Our desires have died, give incent to play

Mount Wroclai
Mount Wroclai
Mount Wroclai
Mount Wroclai
Mount Wroclai