Voices in the distance, beautiful
Somebody’s calling beyond control
Have you ever felt desperation?
This whole world is filled with loss
We will regret it when we sleep
Promises never meant to keep
When all of the shadows lead
As a good man’s hiding a dream
Do they know that the world’s on fire?
Time has a price we can’t afford
An empty glass and an open door
You get what you paid for in sweat
And a voice says please don’t forget
Do they know that the world’s on fire?
Do they know that the time is now?
Do they know that you gotta stand up, stand up
Let your voice speak out
Do they know that it’s time?
Caught in a maze you can’t escape
The flickering lights, and the colored lens
The walls that we build just close in
Until we decide to begin
Are we distracted by the sun?
The gleaming jewels, and the beating drums
Is it going the distance we fear?
Have you heard that we’re already here?
Do they know that the world’s on fire?
Do they know that the time is now?
Do they know that you gotta stand up, stand up
Let your voice speak out
Do they know that the world’s on fire?
Do they know that the time is here?
Do they know that you gotta stand up, stand up
Let your voice be clear
Do they know that it’s time?
Some will say we’ve gone too far
We’re on the edge and in too deep
Some will say we’re too far gone
You can’t erase the tragedy
Do they know that the world’s on fire?
Do they know that the time is here?
Do they know that you gotta stand up, stand up
Yeah, you gotta stand up
Do they know that the world’s on fire?
Do they know that the time is here?
Do they know that you gotta stand up, stand up
Let your voice be clear
Do they know that it’s time?
In light of the things I’ve been working on, I think today’s song will have to be Dismantle. Repair. by Anberlin. If the first book of Shades is to have a theme song, this is probably it. Raphel has a definite propensity to cut Saeli to ribbons, turn around, and put her back together again. It’s even a play on words, in a sense: Dis-Mantle.
Anberlin - Dismantle. Repair.
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one last glance from a taxi cab
images scar my mind
for weeks have felt like years
since your full attention was all mine
the night was young and so were we
talked about life, God, death, and your family
didn’t want any promises,
just my undivided honesty, and you said
things are gonna change now for the better
things are gonna change, oh, they’re gonna change
I am the patron saint of lost causes
a fraction of who I once believed
only a matter of time
opinions I would try and rewrite
if life had background music playing your song
I’ve got to be honest, I tried to escape you
but the orchestra plays on, and they sang
things are gonna change now for the better
things are gonna change
hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you
lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through
dismantle me down
repair
you dismantle me
you dismantle me
give me time to prove
prove I want the rest of yours
call this a prelude to a lifetime of you
it’s not that I hang on every word
I hang myself on what you repeat
it’s not that I keep hanging on
I’m never letting go
hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you
lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through
dismantle me down
repair
you dismantle me
you dismantle me
save me from myself
save me from myself
help me save me from myself
save me from myself
things are gonna change now for the better
things are gonna change
hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you
lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through
dismantle me down
repair
you dismantle me
you dismantle me
Since the hubby and I were talking about a specific vampire villain of Briar Rose today, I thought I would post this song by AFI. It’s almost eerily good as a vampire song.
AFI - Love Like Winter
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warn your warmth to turn away,
here it’s December,
everyday
press your lips to the sculptures,
and surely you’ll stay
(love like winter)
for of sugar and ice,
I am made, I am made
it’s in the blood
it’s in the blood
I met my love before I was born
he wanted love,
I taste of blood.
he bit my lip and drank my war,
from years before
she exhales vanilla lace,
I barely dreamt her, yesterday
read the lines in the mirror
through the lipstick trace
por siempre
she said it seems you’re somewhere far away
to his face
it’s in the blood
it’s in the blood
I met my love before I was born
she wanted love,
I taste of blood.
she bit my lip and drank my war,
from years before
love like winter
love like winter, winter…
it’s in the blood
it’s in the blood
I met my love before I was born
he wanted love,
I taste of blood.
he bit my lip and drank my war,
from years before
It’s not even really Within Temptation’s style, but for some reason, I’ve taken a liking to this song. Idealism appeals to me, even if it’s foolish. The world would be darker without it.
Within Temptation - Utopia
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The burning desire to live and roam free
It shines in the dark
And it grows within me
You’re holding my hand but you don’t understand
So where I am going, you won’t be in the end
I’m dreaming in colors
Of getting the chance
Dreaming of trying the perfect romance
The search of the door, to open your mind
In search of the cure of mankind
Help us, we’re drowning
So closed up inside
Why does it rain, rain, rain down on utopia?
Why does it have to kill the ideal of who we are?
Why does it rain, rain, rain down on utopia?
And will the lights die down, telling us who we are?
I’m searching for answers, not given for free
You’re hurting inside, is there life within me?
You’re holding my hand but you don’t understand
So you’re taking the road all alone in the end
I’m dreaming in colors, no boundaries are there
I’m dreaming the dream, and I’ll sing to share
In search of the door, to open your mind
In search of the cure of mankind
Help us, we’re drowning
So closed up inside
Why does it rain, rain, rain down on utopia
Why does it have to kill the ideal of who we are?
Why does it rain, rain, rain, down on utopia?
And when the lights die down, telling us who we are
Why does it rain, rain, rain down on utopia
Why does it have to kill the idea of who we are?
Why does it rain, rain, rain down on utopia
And when the lights die down, telling us who we are
So, first order of business today: the Hanson concert was awesome!
Okay, so having to stand in a tiny spot in a huge crowd for 6+ hours straight after walking a mile barefoot wasn’t quite so fun. (There were three bloody opening acts. Have you ever had your feet cramp from standing for too long? Yeah…). But they made it worth it in the end.
This concert reminded me of why, out of all the bands I really like, Hanson remains the only group that inspires me. Maybe it’s because they’re my age…I dunno. Doesn’t really matter. I watch them play onstage and I can see how much they love what they do. (And how much their fans love them).
Most bands have a mix of hardcore fans, lukewarm fans, oh-I-heard-them-on-the-radio-once fans, and people dragged to the show by other fans. Hanson only ever really had lovers and haters, at least in the public sphere. To an extent, this is still true, although I think most of the haters have long since given up. They are no longer the huge sensation they were in 1997, so the fans they have now are the ones that still believed in their music even after they dropped out of the spotlight. (And their fans are not all female…I saw more than a few guys rocking out Saturday night). There’s no way in hell you’re going to drag a ho-hum person to a Hanson concert.
Their shows are amazing because nobody that doesn’t LOVE the band is going to be there.
Other concerts I’ve been to, the band plays to you, to entertain you, and it’s an enjoyable experience. There are moments when something magical happens, and the energy of the band and the audience are absolutely in sync…where the band is playing better and harder than they could ever do alone because they’re feeding off the crowd’s energy, and everyone in the crowd gets pumped from the music and forgets that they’ve been on their feet for 6 hours and that they’re exhausted. But it’s moments. The rest of the time you’re kind of just listening, or singing, and generally enjoying yourself. (Or, if you happen to be in the middle of a mosh pit, you’re busy trying not to get drop-kicked).
Saturday night the band and the crowd were plugged into each other the whole time. It was all kinds of intense. There was so much energy in that place that when I walked out of there, I was neither tired nor hungry (though I was so sore I could barely walk). Actually, I didn’t even wake up hungry the next morning, despite the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything since midday before. Residual energy? I dunno.
Interestingly, I walked out of there wanting to write, because that’s my passion. Just from a two hour glimpse of those three guys living theirs. It made me start thinking about creativity, and art, and the connection between those who make the art and those who appreciate it. There is an interesting paradox that happens when your work is admired, and when it starts affecting and changing other people’s lives. It’s still yours, but to an extent, it belongs to the fans, too.
Listening to Hanson playing live last night, I was aware of this sense of ownership. To the extent that I loved each song, I owned that song in that moment. It was mine. I cannot take it from them, but they cannot keep it from me…nor would they want to. Anyone who creates art wants, on some level, for other people to own it, to make it theirs. Artists are idea whores. We willingly, eagerly, offer up our passion and our souls to the world, and we love it when our ideas get owned. (Note: Owned, not stolen. There’s a difference.) Every artist wants to make art that changes people. In the same vein, I would argue that Twilight no longer belongs exclusively to Stephanie Meyer, or Harry Potter to J. K. Rowling, or Middle Earth to Tolkien. Edward and Harry and Gandalf live in the hearts of every person who has been touched by these characters.
Believe it or not, the book Atlas Shrugged is riddled with this very idea, and I think it’s one of the few things that Ayn Rand hit dead on. The players in that story are seen as selfish bastards by the rest of the world, seemingly because they refuse to share their ideas, their intellect, their passion with the rest of the world. But they willingly share these things with each other, and it has to do with the difference between thievery and ownership. The world wanted to take what Rearden and John Galt and D’Anconia and Dagny offered, but they didn’t want to own it. They didn’t want to understand it.
Anyone can steal an idea. But to own an idea, you have to be worthy of it. I’ve never respected the really rabid fans of any popular phenomenon…you know, the ones who spend all their time following a band’s tour bus around the country, or spend all their money on paraphernalia, or talk about nothing else. Those to whom a touch of a famous person’s hand, a picture, an autograph, or a rare collectible becomes the currency by which they measure their worth. I say that the way you become worthy of something you love is to use it to fuel your own passions. You will never truly appreciate another person’s creation until you become a creator. I love Hanson’s music. How do I know? Because I want to write stories to that music. I don’t have to have every damn piece of music they’ve ever written to get it. Their passion fuels mine.
However, hell hath no fury like an artist whose work has been stolen or appropriated by someone else. That’s because when someone steals an idea, all they really want is the fame, or admiration, or appreciation that goes with it. They don’t understand the idea itself…in fact, sometimes a thief can be downright afraid of the idea he or she has stolen, because deep down, they know they aren’t worthy of it. I take ideas from other artists all the time…but I use them to create other ideas, and I make them my own, and I gladly own up to where the original idea came from. I have no reason NOT to, because I know my work is equally as worthy as the source. They own it because they created it, I own it because I’ve made it mine. I hope my ideas are good enough that others will own what I’ve made someday, and make it theirs.
It’s funny, I’ll go to a concert like this and, like any fangirl, I hope to get the chance to meet the band personally. I had plenty of chances Saturday. Before every concert, Hanson organizes a barefoot walk to provide shoes, through TOMS, and other aid for people in Africa. For every person who takes the walk, they donate a dollar to the cause. And yes, Hanson participates…they are out there, in the sun, the rain, the snow, whatever, walking with their fans. It’s a really awesome thing they do.
So I had the shot to go up and say hey to one of them…but when it came down to it, I just…couldn’t. (Okay, so the bleeding toe and the 90 degree weather and the fact that everyone was walking really fast didn’t help). I start feeling like, what am I going to say to them that’s more interesting or noteworthy than what anyone else might say? A lot of that is natural shyness, but the other part is the one that wants to be able to say, “Hey, I just got a book published, and I used a song of yours as inspiration…” Not to brag, but just to have some tangible evidence of the oft expressed sentiment: “You guys inspire me.” Any fan can say that. I want it to be true.
I’m starting to believe that this is what I truly liked about Ayn Rand’s work…she understood this concept, if nothing else. (She might not have thought about it in such terms, but she got it.)
I believe I’ve found the song I will be writing Saeli’s death scene with.
Okay, before anyone panics, no, I am not killing off my heroine. She’s not actually going to die…kind of like Harry Potter. In Saeli’s case, Sioned knocks her out of her body, but the Keeper catches her before her soul escapes. She’ll go to a sort of in-between place for a little bit, reveal what really just happened between her and Raphel, and then she’ll have to choose whether to go back or go on.
Actually, because of her choice, the Keeper will die…but that’s a good thing. Angels only die when they accomplish their Purpose.
Breaking Benjamin - Dear Agony
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“i have nothing left to give
i have found the perfect end
you were made to make it hurt
disappear into the dirt
carry me to heaven’s arms
light the way and let me go
take the time to take my breath
i will end where i began
and i will find the enemy within
because i can feel it crawl beneath my skin
dear agony
just let go of me
suffer slowly
is this the way it’s got to be?
dear agony
suddenly
the lights go out
let forever
drag me down
i will fight for one last breath
i will fight until the end
and i will find the enemy within
because i can feel it crawl beneath my skin
dear agony
just let go of me
suffer slowly
is this the way it’s got to be?
don’t bury me
faceless enemy
i’m so sorry
is this the way it’s gotta be?
dear agony
leave me alone
god let me go
i’m blue and cold
black sky will burn
love pull me down
hate lift me up
just turn around
there’s nothing left
somewhere far beyond this world
i feel nothing anymore
dear agony
Just let go of me
suffer slowly
is this the way it’s got to be?
don’t bury me
faceless enemy
i’m so sorry
is this the way it’s gotta be?
dear agony