Bar Fightin’ Blues

Bar Fighin’ Blues

There’s a bar fight in my brain
drunk fucks driving me insane
And yes I’m drunk too
But I hate the bit of me
That I see in you

Yea!
I Got the bar fightin’ blues
I Got the bar fightin’ blues
Gonna leave this bar
Broken and bruised! Yea

And I’m singing for whiskey!
Yea I’m singing for booze!
Cause without you
There’d be no blues!
And I’ll leave that little riddle
For myself and my fools

Cause I got the bar fightin’ blues
I got the bar fightin’ blues
Gonna leave this bar
Broken and bruised! Yee!

Civilized Fucks

You have ignited intense,
savage instincts inside of me
So why don’t you put me down
Like you would your damn hounds
You civilized fucks

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards

Tame Impala — Lonerism

Listen

crazy-humans:

I’ve got my hopes up again, oh no, not again.

(via mcdollars)

You are the product of your parents natural and artistic collaborations and everything else is making changes

Also I will answer those music questions later, sorry beings I have been slipping Into states of intense thought that catch me by surprise

rudolphofficial:

is michael cera even a real person?
rudolphofficial:

is michael cera even a real person?
rudolphofficial:

is michael cera even a real person?
rudolphofficial:

is michael cera even a real person?
rudolphofficial:

is michael cera even a real person?
rudolphofficial:

is michael cera even a real person?

Sleeplessness has smacked me in the face a few times

'Tell me what happens the first time you see a woman naked.'

'The first time you see a woman naked will not be like you imagined. There will be no love, no trust, no intimacy. You won’t even be in the same room as her.

You won’t get to smile as she undresses you and you undress her. You won’t get to calm her nerves with nerves of your own. You won’t get to kiss her, feeling her lips and the edge of her tongue. You won’t get to brush your fingers over the lace of her bra or count her ribs or feel her heartbeat.

The first time you see a woman naked you will be sitting in front of a computer screen watching someone play at intimacy and perform at sex. She will contort her body to please everyone in the room but her. You will watch this woman who is not a woman, pixelated and filtered and customized. She will come ready-made, like an order at a restaurant. The man on the screen will be bigger than you, rougher than you. He will teach you how to talk to her. He will teach you where to put your hands and he will teach you what you’re supposed to like. He will teach you to take what is yours.

You must unlearn this. You must unlearn this twisted sense of love. You must unlearn the definition of pleasure and intimacy you are being taught. Kill this idea of love, this idea of entitlement, this way of scarring one another.’

— (typewriterdaily)

(via plaent)