Today's sole redeeming feature has been the discovery of the Decemberists' "The Rake's Song," a reasonably hard-rocking murder ballad. The circumstances of its album's conception—inspired by Anne Briggs, going to feature Robyn Hitchcock—also make me happy, but right now not as much as singing headbangingly about infanticide.
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Active Entries
- 1: Here we are in the summer rain again
- 2: Now I'm walking round the city just waiting to come to
- 3: You're on, music master
- 4: Be my hand on the oar to row to eternity
- 5: To cormorant to samphire to plover
- 6: I'm the left hand ticking on the timeless clock
- 7: Hope and anger in the ink and on the streets
- 8: Rewriting old excuses, delete the kisses at the end
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