7-23-05
9:52 a.m.
New Hampton, IA
Coldplay – The Scientist
Come up to meet you
Tell you I’m sorry
You don’t know how lovely you are
I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh, let’s go back to the start
Running in circles
Calling tails
Heads on a science apart
Nobody said it was easy
It’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start
I was just guessing
At numbers and figures
Pulling the puzzles apart
Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
Tell me you love me
Come back to haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles
Chasing tails
Coming back as we are
Nobody said it was easy
Oh it’s such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I’m going back to the start
Showing posts with label coldplay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coldplay. Show all posts
23 July 2005
Plainfield and Floyd
7-23-05
9:32 a.m.
There is an indescribable beauty today. I am on the interstate with Molly, Molly’s mum, Molly’s aunt, and Molly’s sisters. To the west it is overcast, but to the east the clouds all look like they’ve been sucked up by a vacuum cleaner… but I suppose that’s not a pretty enough image. They look more like they’ve been summoned upward by the will of the cherubim, so they’re all slanted toward the sun. The sun, while seeming smaller and paler than is typical, gives me warmth and light by which to write.
We are still in Iowa. The daylight is not full, but instead casts a thin beautiful luminescence over the fields of beans and corn. From the hilltops it seems as thought these fields, cast in light of chilling gorgeousity, go on forever. They look as though one could reach out, touch them, and be forced to marvel at their softness.
We pass a town called Plainfield that is tiny. Its visible components are one miniature water tower, a cemetery, a baseball diamond, and a field for American football. Typical Iowan small town. It takes us about two seconds to pass Plainfield, and we have returned to the middle of nowhere. The landscape is dotted with old white houses, huge red barns, and tall blue Harvestore silos. I think for the first time of home, because there by my computer I have a lamp shaped like a Harvestore silo.
Some people crave familiarity. I have never counted myself among those people. But I might be one.
Nashua is bigger than Plainfield, but still discernable over the treetops are the lights of the ball diamond. We are in Floyd county, and the instant my Coldplay CD finishes, I’ll listen to some Pink Floyd to celebrate.
9:32 a.m.
There is an indescribable beauty today. I am on the interstate with Molly, Molly’s mum, Molly’s aunt, and Molly’s sisters. To the west it is overcast, but to the east the clouds all look like they’ve been sucked up by a vacuum cleaner… but I suppose that’s not a pretty enough image. They look more like they’ve been summoned upward by the will of the cherubim, so they’re all slanted toward the sun. The sun, while seeming smaller and paler than is typical, gives me warmth and light by which to write.
We are still in Iowa. The daylight is not full, but instead casts a thin beautiful luminescence over the fields of beans and corn. From the hilltops it seems as thought these fields, cast in light of chilling gorgeousity, go on forever. They look as though one could reach out, touch them, and be forced to marvel at their softness.
We pass a town called Plainfield that is tiny. Its visible components are one miniature water tower, a cemetery, a baseball diamond, and a field for American football. Typical Iowan small town. It takes us about two seconds to pass Plainfield, and we have returned to the middle of nowhere. The landscape is dotted with old white houses, huge red barns, and tall blue Harvestore silos. I think for the first time of home, because there by my computer I have a lamp shaped like a Harvestore silo.
Some people crave familiarity. I have never counted myself among those people. But I might be one.
Nashua is bigger than Plainfield, but still discernable over the treetops are the lights of the ball diamond. We are in Floyd county, and the instant my Coldplay CD finishes, I’ll listen to some Pink Floyd to celebrate.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
