Friday, 17 March 2017

songofcopper: (le dauphin de kobaia)
Song: Bloody Murder // Dear Diary
Band: Black Bucket


Black Bucket: the WORST BAND IN THE WORLD. Consisting of: singer/leader/dictator/international supervillain, Draco von Heliotrope; lead guitarist/certifiable numbskull/wig-collector, T. Roy DuBois; synthesiser maestro/wettest ever drip/snivelling hypochondriac, Archie Bogus; dead bass guitarist, Bert Vile (deceased); and unwilling stand-in bassist/ex-roadie/general dogsbody/cowardly collaborator Cameron Blodgett, they harmed ears and souls with their awful songs about horrid things. Thank God you never had to hear them.

...My (well) cover version is MUCH nicer. :-)

If you wanna hear it, CLICK HERE DARLING.

This song sees Draco in an atypically introspective frame of mind. He is going to burn his diary because of what it contains.

You can’t tell but this song wanders around a lot of unexpected territory. Whenever I sing it I think of the ‘vision serpent’. In the Ancient Americas, auto-sacrifice took place: stingray spines were used to pierce the tongues (and, er, sometimes other things) of nobles and priests. The blood was collected on special paper and the paper was burned to release the ‘vision serpent’. I feel like burning yer diary might achieve similar ends.

The question is: what’s in that book that makes it have to die? Is it a confession of actual murder that Draco is burning for legal purposes? Or is the ‘bloody murder’ the ‘murder’ of his diary?

Lyrics:

The story of my life, I wrote it down
The story of my life, I tear it down
Do they know?
Do they know?

The story of my life, I want it gone
So I can invent another one
Do they know?
Do they know?

Oh, I know
What I have done
Don’t need you to tell me
Oh, no

The look of a lover has a sweet disguise
Find the fire behind the eyes
Do you know?
Do you know?
Find the fire behind the eyes
All the lies, the tender goodbyes
You know,
I know you know

Say it’s today
It shall be done
DEATH to my diary
Oh, yeah

Chorus:
For there are some things
That never should be written down
Never should be talked about
Oh no, oh no
And there are some days
You wish that you could throw away
Some days you wish would go away
Oh yeah, oh yeah,
Oh yeah, oh yeah

Lalalalalala…

No, I won’t go
I won’t go there
Never again,
No, no

Chorus

Lalalalalala…

© MMFH 2001/2017

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Eavesdrop, snoop, and sigh with yearning…

This journal is not a private diary, it is more like an occasional, imaginary column. Therefore, much of it is on public display. However, if you want to read my occasional attempts at creative writing, my Caution Elf tells me I should only show that stuff to my friends. You know what to do. :-)

NB: If you add me in an unsolicited fashion, please introduce yourself. Otherwise I will probably ignore you.

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