Dålig uppdatering jag vet. Förlåt! Men det är svårt att hålla tre bloggar igång.
Men här kan ni gå in för att se när Lisa Lowell spelar och sådant.
För Oss Som Gillar Sångerskan Lisa Lowell
söndag 6 mars 2011
torsdag 3 mars 2011
"The Big Odd" Text!
The big odd is out on his back again.
Like a sea tossed turtle, putting in time
In the wet grass of a Carolina after-rain.
Bathing in his monkey shine.
Oh what I couldn't give.
To slip him the tongue.
And show little daddy how things get done.
Around here.
Ohhh...
In a sacrosanet sweet dream state.
No demon imagined could marr.
And no woman of spite could come punish.
And no man in his cruel cups could jar.
In a pact of his own understanding.
He made long ago drinking with God.
Him I love, way down south, there for better.
All smokey and simmering and odd.
Hey, but if I thought I could champion some feeling.
Maybe orchestrate my way of thinking.
He could live like a charm in my movie.
In the story I think I wanna believe in.
Once his fine fleshy face filled my pillow.
As I witnessed his sleeping lipped smirk.
Belying the cool measured movements.
Of a crocodile hungry at work.
Now he swims thru the seasoned sweet marrow.
In this free ranging bayou of bone.
Where the fish flash a flipper and glimmer.
And whisper he's gone baby gone.
But not for long cause.
I think he knows.
Somehow I think that he knows.
This old blue heart is something like a home.
Oh... the big odd..the big odd and hoe... :)
Like a sea tossed turtle, putting in time
In the wet grass of a Carolina after-rain.
Bathing in his monkey shine.
Oh what I couldn't give.
To slip him the tongue.
And show little daddy how things get done.
Around here.
Ohhh...
In a sacrosanet sweet dream state.
No demon imagined could marr.
And no woman of spite could come punish.
And no man in his cruel cups could jar.
In a pact of his own understanding.
He made long ago drinking with God.
Him I love, way down south, there for better.
All smokey and simmering and odd.
Hey, but if I thought I could champion some feeling.
Maybe orchestrate my way of thinking.
He could live like a charm in my movie.
In the story I think I wanna believe in.
Once his fine fleshy face filled my pillow.
As I witnessed his sleeping lipped smirk.
Belying the cool measured movements.
Of a crocodile hungry at work.
Now he swims thru the seasoned sweet marrow.
In this free ranging bayou of bone.
Where the fish flash a flipper and glimmer.
And whisper he's gone baby gone.
But not for long cause.
I think he knows.
Somehow I think that he knows.
This old blue heart is something like a home.
Oh... the big odd..the big odd and hoe... :)
Bilder!
Sorry för dålig update.
Men här kommer några snygga bilder på Lisa Lowell, bland annat hennes skivomslag! :)
Så är det :)
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