Made by my head
Music, Ireland. Grey, name. My name. A step ladder. This house was built in a bog. Music is the window. I fell off a step ladder.





Sunday, August 06, 2006

 

Music. The Blizzards.


South of outstanding, north of killing rats, pleasant afternoon hours slip away and all I can do is say or say is do or hide behind a filing cabinet.


Everything you do is like the back of a truck or the front of yourself and you write in the dust on the back of a truck and that's everything you do. They've got diamonds becuz because because because. I stole their diamonds.


Band: The Blizzards.


They're from Mullingar and one of them played rugby for Leinster. I can think of at least one reason not to like them, but they're better than being able to say, "Why are there five witches examining my head?" and then realising that they're good witches who'll tell you when your head smells.


Website:

www.theblizzards.ie


There's a thorn in my storm, and you you you you you, well I'm not going to blame myself.




He shoots, he scores, he glues himself to a lilac tree. Let's kick him.

A walk in the rain - Poetry. Ireland. Reading the news with no trousers.
Very Slight Stories - Very short stories.
Henry Seaward-Shannon - Slightly longer short-stories.






More blogs about music.

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