#SUFFERING AND AWFULNESS HAVE ENSUED AND I AM A FOOL BUT IT'S TOO LATE NOW

[contrariian-archive]

HOZIER’S  “WASTELAND, BABY!” SENTENCE STARTERS

feel free to change pronouns, etc!

NINA CRIED POWER

‘ it’s not the waking, it’s the rising. ’ ‘ it is the grounding of a foot uncompromising. ’ ‘ it’s not forgoing of the lie, it’s not the opening of eyes. ’ ‘ it’s not the shade; we should be past it. it’s the light, and it’s the obstacle that casts it. ’ ‘ it’s the heat that drives the light. ’ ‘ it’s the heaven of a human spirit ringing. ’ ‘ and i could cry power. ’   ‘ it’s not the wall, but what’s behind it. ’ ‘ power has been cried by those stronger than me, straight into the face that tells you to rattle your chains if you love being free. ’

ALMOST (SWEET MUSIC)

‘ i came in from the outside, burned out from a joyride. ’ ‘ the same kind of music haunts her bedroom. ’ ‘ i’m almost me again. ’ ‘ i’m almost me again. she’s almost you. ’ ‘ i wouldn’t know where to start. ’ ‘ be still my foolish heart. ’ ‘ don’t ruin this on me. ’ ‘ let’s get lost and let the good times roll. ’ ‘ let’s smoke rings from this paper doll. ’ ‘ i got some color back. ’ ‘ i laugh like me again, she laughs like you. ’ ‘ the very thought of you, and i am blue. ’ ‘ i get along without you very well some other nights. ’

MOVEMENT

‘ i still watch you when you’re grooving. ’ ‘  you’re moving without moving. ’ ‘ when you move, i’m moved. ’ ‘ you are a call to motion. ’ ‘ when you move, i’m put to mind of all that i wanna be. ’ ‘ i could never define all that you are to me. ’ ‘ move me, baby. ’ ‘ you do it naturally. ’ ‘ honey, you’re atlas in his sleeping. ’ ‘ i recall something that’s gone from me. ’ ‘ when you move, i’m put in awe of something so flawed and free. ’

NO PLAN

‘ what a waste to say the heart could feel apart, or feel complete. ’ ‘ why would you make out of words a cage for your own bird, when it sings so sweet the screaming, heaving fuckery of the world? ’ ‘ why would you offer a name to the same old tired pain? ’ ‘ all things come from nothing. ’ ‘ my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand. ’ ‘ i know now that you understand. ’ ‘ there’s no plan. ’ ‘ there’s no race to be run. ’ ‘ the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun. ’ ‘ there’s no kingdom to come. ’ ‘ i’ll be your man if you got love to get done. ’ ‘ sit in and watch the sunlight fade. ’ ‘ it’s getting late. ’ ‘ there’s no hand on the rein. ’ ‘ as mack explained, there will be darkness again. ’ ‘ let the awful song be heard. ’ ‘ i know your beat, baby. ’ ‘ your secret is safe with me. ’ ‘ if secrets were like seeds, keep my body from the fire, hire a gardener for my grave. ’ ‘ if secrets were like seeds, when i’m lying under marble, marvel at flowers you’ll have made. ’

NOBODY

‘ it’s gin o’clock. ’ ‘ i think about you everywhere i go. ’ ‘ i’ve done everything and i’ve been everywhere. ’ ‘ i’ve been fed gold by sweet fools. ’ ‘ i’ve had no love like your love from nobody. ’ ‘ i’d be appalled if i saw you ever try to be a saint. ’ ‘ i wouldn’t fall for someone i thought couldn’t misbehave. ’ ‘ i once warmed my hands over a burning maserati. ’ ‘ why should we deny the truth? ’ ‘ we could have less to worry about  —  i won’t lie to you. ’

TO NOISE MAKING (SING)

‘ remember when you’d sing just for the fuck of it? ’ ‘ the look of it was as sweet as the sound. ’ ‘ i couldn’t name that feeling carried in that voice  —  was it that, or just the act of making noise that brought you joy? ’ ‘ you don’t have to sing it right, but who could call you wrong? ’ ‘ put your emptiness to melody, your awful heart to song. ’ ‘ you don’t have to sing it right. ’ ‘ you don’t have to sing it right, but sing it strong. ’ ‘ at best, you’ll find a little remedy. ’ ‘ at worst, the world will sing along. ’ ‘ we’d scuff up our shoes. ’ ‘ you didn’t always sing it right. ’ ‘ who could ask you to be unbroken or be brave again? ’ ‘ be unbroken. ’ ‘ be brave again. ’ ‘ who could ask you to be sound or to feel saved again? ’ ‘ stick around until you hear that music play again. ’ ‘ so honey, sing. ’ ‘ sing. ’ ‘ remember when you’d sing just for the love of it? and any joy it would bring? ’

AS IT WAS 

‘ there is a roadway, muddy and foxgloved, whenever i’d have life enough, my heart is screaming of. ’ ‘ and in a few days, i would be there, love. ’ ‘ whatever here that’s left of me is yours. ’ ‘ the highs hit the heights of my baby, and its hold had the fight of my baby. ’ ‘ the lights were as bright as my baby, ’ ‘ your love was unmoved. ’   ‘ tell me if, somehow, some of it remains, how long you would wait for me. ’ ‘ make your good love known to me. ’ ‘ tell me about your day. ’ ‘ and the nights were as dark as my baby, and half as beautiful too. ’

SHRIKE

‘ i couldn’t utter my love when it counted. ’ ‘ i couldn’t utter my love when it counted, but i’m singing like a bird about it now. ’ ‘ i’m singing like a bird about it now. ’ ‘ i couldn’t whisper when you needed it shouted. ’ ‘ words hung above, but never would form  —  like a cry at the final breath that is drawn. ’ ‘ remember me. ’ ‘ remember me, love. ’ ‘ remember me, love, when i’m reborn as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn. ’ ‘ i’d no idea on what ground i was founded. ’ ‘ all of that goodness is going with you now. ’ ‘ then, when i met you, my virtues uncounted  —  all of my goodness is going with you now. ’ ‘ all of my goodness is going with you now. ’ ‘ dragging along, following your form, hung like the pelt of some prey you had won. ’ ‘ i’m hung like the pelt of some prey you had one. ’ ‘ remember me when i’m reborn as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn. ’ ‘ i fled to the city with so much discounted. ’ ‘ i fled to the city with so much discounted, but i’m flying like a bird to you now. ’ ‘ i’m flying like a bird to you now. ’ ‘ i’m flying like a bird to you now, back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted. ’ ‘ i was housed by your warmth. ’ ‘ i was thus transformed by your grounded and giving and darkening scorn. ’

TALK

‘ i’d be the voice that urged orpheus when her body was found. i’d be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground. ’ ‘ i’d be the dreadful need in the devotee. ’ ‘ i’d be the immediate forgiveness in eurydice. ’ ‘ imagine being loved by me. ’ ‘ i won’t deny  —  i’ve got in my mind now all the things i would do. ’ ‘ i try to talk refined for fear that you find out how i’m imagining you. ’ ‘ i’d be the last shred of truth in the lost myth of true love. ’ ‘ i’d be the sweet feeling of release. ’

BE

‘ be as you’ve always been. ’ ‘ lover, be good to me. ’ ‘ be like the love that discovered the sin, that freed the first man and will do so again. ’ ‘ be that hopeful feeling when eden was lost. ’ ‘ it’s been deaf to our laughter since the master was crossed. ’ ‘ which side of the wall really suffers that cost? ’ ‘ be love in its disrepute. ’ ‘ love, in its disrepute, scorches the hillside and salts every root. ’ ‘ watch the slowing and starving of troops. ’ ‘ be like the rose that you hold in your hand, that will grow bold in a barren and desolate land. ’ ‘ love, won’t you be as you’ve always been? ’

DINNER & DIATRIBES

‘ this club here is stuck up. ’ ‘ i knew well from our first hookup the look of mischief in your eyes. ’ ‘ your friends are a fate that befell me. ’ ‘ hell is the talking type. ’ ‘ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ’ ‘ that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of. ’ ‘ honey, i laugh when it sinks in. ’ ‘ the evening is slowing. ’ ‘ the end is in sight. ’ ‘ it’s easier knowing what you’d do to me tonight. ’ ‘ let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised. ’ ‘ let there be damage ensued and tabloid news. ’

WOULD THAT I 

‘ i saw your hair like the branch of a tree  — a willow dancing on air before covering me. ’ ‘ that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me. ’ ‘ the sound of the saw must be known by the tree. ’ ‘ i fretted fire, but that was long ago. ’ ‘ i blink in sight of your blinding light. ’ ‘ it’s not tonight where you hold me tight. ’ ‘ you’re good to me. ’ ‘ with the roar of the fire, my heart rose to its feet. ’ ‘ like the ashes of ash, i saw rise in the heat. ’ ‘ i fell in love with the fire long ago. ’ ‘ with each love i cut loose, i was never the same. ’ ‘ i’m watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame. ’ ‘ i was fixed on your hand of gold laying waste to my loving long ago. ’ ‘ in awe, there i stood. ’ ‘ though i’ve handled the wood, i still worship the flame. ’ ‘ as long as the amber of ember glows, all the would that i’d loved is long ago. ’

SUNLIGHT 

‘ i would shun the light. ’ ‘ share in evening’s cool and quiet. ’ ‘ who would trade that hum of night for sunlight? ’ ‘ but whose heart would not take flight? ’ ‘ but whose heart would not take flight, betray the moon as acolyte, on first and fierce affirming sight of sunlight? ’ ‘ i’d been lost to you. ’ ‘ i flew like a moth to you. ’ ‘ oh, your love is sunlight. ’ ‘ all the tales the same, told before and told again. ’ ‘ a soul that’s born in cold and rain knows sunlight. ’ ‘ oh, my sunlight. ’ ‘ all that was shown to me, sunlight, was something foreknown to me. ’ ‘ all these colors fade for you only. ’ ‘ hold me. ’ ‘ carry me slowly. ’ ‘ each day, you’d rise with me. ’ ‘ know that i would gladly be the icarus to your certainty. ’ ‘ strap the wing to me. death trap-clad, happily, with wax melted, i’d meet the sea. ’

WASTELAND, BABY!

‘ all the fear and the fire of the end of the world happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl. happens great, happens sweet. ’ ‘ happily, i’m unfazed here, too. ’ ‘ wasteland baby, i’m in love with you. ’ ‘ baby, i’m in love with you. ’ ‘ all the things yet to come are the things that have passed: like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass. ’ ‘ i’m in love with you. ’ ‘ and i love too that love soon might end. ’ ‘ be still, my indelible friend. you are unbreaking. ’ ‘ you are unbreaking, though quaking. ’ ‘ that day that we watch the death of the sun; the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on. ’ ‘ you gaze unafraid as they sob from the city ruins. ’ ‘ the stench of the sea and the absence of green are the death of all things that are seen and unseen. ’ ‘ not an end, but the start of all things that are left to do. ’ ‘ that’s it. ’

#sentence starters #hozier sentence starters #wasteland baby starters #askbox memes #long post #long post for ts #the answer is blowing in the wind || memes.