so much love

The things you say and the things you do
Line up when the skies are blue
But it rains most of your days

A hide and seek championship
Trophy high on your achievement list
Yeah, it’s your greatest piece
(And I loved you all the same)

But you need space and a helping hand
And a careful kiss plus a superman
Tell me how I wronged you now?

So much for your patience
So much for your love
All this time wasted
On a written book


About Being Free

Don’t be told it can’t be done
Because the best all die young
Yeah we all feel the same
And if there’s nothing left to say
Just have the guts to disagree
Or plaster on a face for me

Whoa, where’s your passion? Where’s your fire tonight?
Whoa, I can’t believe there’s nothing you’re willing to hide

Twin Atlantic – Free

About the Facts of Myth

When these [biblical] stories are interpreted, though, not as reports of historic fact, but as merely imagined episodes onto history, and when they are recognised, then, as analogous to like projections produced elsewhere, in China, India, Yucatán, the import becomes obvious; namely, that although false and to be rejected as accounts of physical history, such universally cherished figures of the mythic imagination must represent facts of the mind: “facts of the mind made manifest in a fiction of matter,” as my friend the late Maya Deren once phrased the mystery. And whereas it must, of course, be the task of the historian, archaeologist, and prehistorian to show that the myths are as facts untrue—that there is no one Chosen People of God in this multiracial world, no Found Truth to which we all must bow, no One and Only True Church—it will be more and more, and with incasing urgency, the task of the psychologist and comparative mythologist not only to identify, analyse, and interpret the symbolised “facts of the mind,” but also to evolve techniques for retaining these in health and, as the old traditions of the fading past dissolve, assist mankind to a knowledge and appreciation of our own inward, as well as the world’s outward, orders of fact.


About the Girl from Ipanema

Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes `ah’
When she walks, she’s like a samba that swings so cool and sways so gently
That when she passes, each one she passes goes `ooh’
But I watch her so sadly, how can I tell her I love her
Yes I would give my heart gladly,
But each day, when she walks to the sea
She looks straight ahead, not at me