Today we changed up after two days of Matchbox Twenty... two days of self-abuse, which we did mainly to see if we could. Stand the pain, as it were, coz most of the tunes on that Pandora station are from our personal Apocalypse Now period. So, we withstood it... Hell, we actually enjoyed it. Kinda-sorta. But today we're off to kinder and gentler music, which is to say the Joan Osborne station, which never fails to make me smile... mainly coz we loves us our chirps. First of all, this:
I find it magical (hey)
I feel like I'm loving you in 1963 (hey)
Flowers in my hair (hey)
Little bitty hearts upon my cheek
Baby, you'll be on my mind
'till I kiss you next time
My first thought: Hell, YES! Love me like it's 1963... when I was 18 and at my sexual peak, according to experts who claim to know about these things. My second thought was 180-out... as in Hell, NO! 1963 was the year I graduated from high school, had my heart broken by the lovely but clue-free Roxanne, ran away and went through basic training, and was otherwise similarly indisposed and going through massive changes. If I wanna go back and be loved in a certain year I'll take 1976, thankyaverymuch. THAT was a year of good lovin', but we shan't digress. And then there's this...
Lay your body down, come and let me bring your body down
Listen to my voice, the only sound
As I lullaby you, lullaby you down
Dang, I love this woman's voice (she's a hottie, too). Yeah, I'd let her lullaby me right down.
And then there's THIS...