I don't want to be destroyed
I just want to lay on this block of ice
I am one you are two we are three
What for? What for? I don't want to be destroyed
I just want to be left on this block of ice
I am one you are two we are three
What for? What for? My connection is your connection,
The sun is shining I see your face
Turning it over I see the clover
The things that I love dear are taking shape. I don't want to be destroyed
I just want to be left on this block of ice
I am one you are two we are three
What for? What for? My connection is your connection,
The sun is shining I see your face
Turning it over I see the clover
The things that I love dear are taking shape. [ The Oh Sees ]
I just want to lay on this block of ice
I am one you are two we are three
What for? What for? I don't want to be destroyed
I just want to be left on this block of ice
I am one you are two we are three
What for? What for? My connection is your connection,
The sun is shining I see your face
Turning it over I see the clover
The things that I love dear are taking shape. I don't want to be destroyed
I just want to be left on this block of ice
I am one you are two we are three
What for? What for? My connection is your connection,
The sun is shining I see your face
Turning it over I see the clover
The things that I love dear are taking shape. [ The Oh Sees ]
"I love... to show people what can be done in life if you spend time to create."(thx jm3)
(via Irwin)
After the previous video of Cooper-Moore playing an instrument held up to his mouth with a bow, Karen asked what he was playing. And then Daniel suggested to me that it was a mouth bow, so I finally looked it up.
(via @shopsinc)
(thx @turntablelab)
At such times there is a song going on within us, a song to which we listen. It fills us with surprise. We marvel at it. We would continue to hear it. But few are capable of holding themselves in the state of listening to their own song. Intellectuality steps in and as the song within us is of the utmost sensitiviteness, it retires in the presence of the cold, material intellect. It is aristocratic and will not associate itself with the commonplace-- and we fall back and become our ordinary selves. Yet we live in the memory of these songs which in moments of intellectual inadvertence have been possible to us. They are the pinnacles of our experience and it is the desire to express these intimate sensations, this song from within, which motivates the masters of all art.
(thx @kosta)