no one (tune analysis)

Well I can't ever really believe
No one was sent to get me
And I feel like I'm being erased
No one got left here

I'm all alone
No one was sent to get me
I'm all alone
No one got left here

But I'm fine
No one got left here
Well I'm fine
No one got left here

I can't even breathe when I see
The pictures sent without you
I feel like i've been erased
No one got left here

I'm all alone
No one was sent to get me
I'm all alone
No one got left here

But I'm fine
No one got left here
Well I'm fine
No one got left here

But I'm fine
No one got left here
Well I'm fine
No one got left

I'm so sick of this terrible instinct
It's so hard now
Just to find you
I'm so sick of this terrible instinct
It's so hard now
Just to find you
So sick of the terrible instinct
I can only find you
So sick of the terrible instinct
I can only find you

But I'm fine
No one got left here
Well I'm fine
No one got left here

But I'm fine
No one got left here
Well I'm fine
Nobody got left


I really like this tune by cold. it is in my opinion a man crying out for God. not only that but is is an accurate analysis of man's state. we are creatures with instinct, sometimes terrible instinct as the song depicts. kill, screw, fight, flight, protect self at all costs. these instincts while at times fine in their place at other times run counter to our soul's calling.

do we follow our instinct or do we at times rise above it by actually running counter to it. to follow the instinct blindly, like an animal, we lose sight of our higher being, we lose sight of God.

Cold says it best with this line:

I'm so sick of this terrible instinct
It's so hard now
Just to find you
I'm so sick of this terrible instinct
It's so hard now
Just to find you

theres more than survival of the creature at stake, it is survival of the soul which trumps all.

the "easy" way (tune analysis)

Know it sounds funny
But I just cant stand the pain
Girl Im leaving you tomorrow
Seems to me girl
You know Ive done all I can
You see I begged, stole
And I borrowed
Ooh, thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Why in the world
Would anyboddy put chains on me?
Ive paid my dues to make it
Everbody wants me to be
What they want me to be
Im not happy when I try to fake it!
No!
Ooh,thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
I wanna be high, so high
I wanna be free to know
The things I do are right
I wanna be free
Just me, babe!
Thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Because Im easy
Easy like sunday morning
Because Im easy
Easy like sunday morning



i love this tune and i especially love the line "i want to be free to know the things i do are right". its the hideous nature of man at its lowest.

essentially the tune asks...
why i cant i do just whatever the F@#k i want to do? why must people constrain me in any way shape or form? and further, when i do whatever the F@#k i want to do, i want to feel that what im doing is right, and good. ok? is that too much to ask?


i think faith no more's gets it right in their rendition. halfway through lionel's version he lets out this sexy crooning groan which for FNM becomes a groan of utter disgust, and this of course is actually way more appropriate to the content of the tune.

the passing of time and the disbelief thereof...

good night! how did they get so old?

a while back on facebook i perused some old classmates from high school only to find with disappointment that they were all old. wrinkles. fat heads. fat necks, double chins, hair weaves and children in tow. i say dissapointment but really it was just disbelief, and in some cases maybe a bit of delight(sic). im starting to think i may be an immortal, because, i havent aged at all in the last 10-15 years. not at all. im young, sprite, tight-skinned, childless, and lovely.

well maybe not but i certainly am not as old as all of them, theyre old. what if i was really as old as they, but my bias or psychosis wont let me see it. a kind of self-preserving defense.

nah. theyre old and im not.

...makes us stronger

"I'm waiting for a mission - getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker. And every minute Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger." - Captain Benjamin Willard (from Apocalypse Now)

i love this quote. it reminds me that the difficulty, advesity and harshness of our environment...molds us. it makes us more adaptable, more capable.

that is of course if we navigate through the adversity rather than avoid it. running away can only make us weaker. like a soft spot on a tooth that the brush never touches. weaker and weaker and weaker until it breaks open, revealing the stench and decay of such avoidance.

it is also providing the difficulty or harshness doesnt kill us. however, even if it does kill the body perhaps the possibility exists, i believe it does, that the soul may be strengthened by it still.

conceptualization of motivation

a man covered in silt, dirt, and coal-dust, wearing overalls and a hard-hat lives in a corner of my soul. he is my age and his dwelling appears as a small cave-like room. The same murky coating that covers his face and body also covers the walls and floor of his surroundings.

whenever hes felt overwhelmed or down or doubtful a chute in the ceiling would open up and more filth and coal dust would rush in. at some point (or "one day" if you prefer) as pointless as it seemed he started digging around in this room. to his astonishment he discovered that in the floor, right there in the floor, covered with years of filth was a beautiful blue radiant light. it was small and cylindrical, but the light it gave was radiant and beautiful. it made him feel warm and useful to see this light so he started digging with a small shovel moving the dust and sludge away from it. this man began to notice something. the stagnant room he was in was moving. it was not just a stationary room but a vehicle or machine. it was now moving, he was moving, he was moving it!! he was controlling it by his efforts. this only made him dig more. sweat mixed with tears of joy streamed down his face revealing tracks of clean skin beneath.

before long he cleared all the dust from the light. the machine continued on. harshly cranking at first then rhythmically, it moved. the man could not describe what he felt. it was as though for the first time in his life. purpose. he realized he could make this great hunky sluggish machine move. he controlled his destiny. he was not stuck in a room, he was the pilot of an amazing machine.

today he still cleans the light, sometimes getting down on his hands and knees with a rag scrubbing off any remnants of coal-dust. and still, on occasion that chute opens up and dumps a heap of sludge into his room and onto his light. but its different now. now he has the knowledge of that light, and this keeps the machine going, keeps him going.