This Will Not Be Heard...

This is a Mountain Goats song (clearly not being performed by the Mountain Goats) called Black Molly.  If I could find one of JD performing it, that’d be great, but this is the closest to the original of the two covers that are on the internet. Great, isn’t it?  Lyrics?  Sure!

Black Mollies in the aquarium
Darting back and forth as though an earthquake was certain
And I turned up the heater
I ripped off my shirt
And I grabbed hold of my stereo
And threw it out the window

You are in town again
You come around again
You are dragging me down again
With you

Siamese Fighting-fish flashing like sparklers
It started to rain
And the telephone rang a couple of time
I put a bullet through its cold dead brain
And I got out my photographs of you
And I put bullets through all of them too

You are in town again
You come around again
You are dragging me down again
With you

Patrick Park is a good musician who unfortunately got featured on the O.C. and doesn’t get the recognition that he deserves, but either way, I’ve sort of adopted this song as my theme.  It’s called “Something Pretty” and, well, I guess just listen to it.  I’ll post the lyrics below:

Here I am, where I’ve been
I’ve walked a hundred miles in tobacco skin,
And my clothes are worn & gritty.
And I know ugliness,
Now show me something pretty.
I was a dumb punk kid with nothing to lose
And too much weight for walking shoes.
I could have died from being boring.
As for loneliness,
She greets me every morning.

At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.

At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.

Here I am, where I’ve been
I’ve walked a hundred miles in tobacco skin,
And my clothes are worn & gritty.
And I know ugliness,
Now show me something pretty.

At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.

At the most I’m a glare,
I’m the hopeless son who’s hardly there.
I’m the open sign that’s always busted.
I’m the friend you need, but can’t be trusted.

This is Chisel, Ted Leo’s band prior to the Pharmacists. This is “Your Star is Killing Me” with lyrics:

Here, it hits home. Even here when I’m alone. With you in my headphones. How cool it would be…but if every kid was me, then we’d all stand starstruck and all go home alone. And when it’s near, then I’m prone to dig in the taste and decide that it’s good. But we’ll stick with what we’re used to and I’ll maybe think about it, but leave all the talking to you. You make me feel that I’m vaguely in touch with the scene that I’ve thrown on you. But you keep me out just that much, ‘cause you just don’t give me anything to hold on to. And I’ll always be thrilled, and you’ll always be the one who’s thrilling me. But if I die unfulfilled, I want you to know that it’s your star that’s killing me.

Why not?