Box Of Rain, by the Grateful Dead

Look out of any window
Any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining
Birds are winging, no rain is falling from a heavy sky
What do you want me to do
To do for you to see you through?
For this is all a dream we dreamed one afternoon long ago

Walk out of any doorway
Feel your way like the day before
Maybe you’ll find direction
Around some corner where it’s been waiting to meet you
What do you want me to do
To watch for you while you’re sleeping?
Then please don’t be surprised when you find me dreaming too

Look into any eyes
You find by you; you can see clear to another day
Maybe been seen before
Through other eyes on other days while going home
What do you want me to do
To do for you to see you through?
It’s all a dream we dreamed one afternoon long ago

Walk into splintered sunlight
Inch your way through dead dreams to another land
Maybe you’re tired and broken
Your tongue is twisted with words half spoken and thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do
To do for you, to see you through?
A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through

Just a box of rain, wind and water
Believe it if you need it, if you don’t just pass it on
Sun and shower, wind and rain
In and out the window like a moth before a flame

And it’s just a box of rain, I don’t know who put it there
Believe it if you need it or leave it if you dare
And it’s just a box of rain, or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long, long time to be gone and a short time to be there

Words

“More and more I found myself at a loss for words and didn’t want to hear other people talking either. Their conversations seemed false and empty. I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone”

– Paula McLain, The Paris Wife

“Love, the warmth of bodies in contact, is the only mercy shown to us in the darkness. But the only union is that of the organs, and it can’t bridge over the cleavage made by speech. Yet they unite in order to produce beings to stand by them in their hopeless isolation. And the generations look coldly into each other’s eyes. If you cram a ship full to bursting with human bodies, they all freeze with loneliness.”

– Bertold Brecht, In the Jungle of Cities

“… of course natural language is meaningless. Even in my most optimistic moments I can only conclude that conversation merely exists to disguise the fact that we are all going to die… No doubt following this lecture you will all exist mostly in silence.”

– Maurice Clint, 2001 or so, Belfast, in a maths lecture

“Language only lives in and through human culture, which on the one hand needs mutual understanding but on the other hand makes direct communication impossible. […] People who use language lose their primitive desires which, however sinful, remain close to the self. Frightened by solitude, their only home, they become automata, slaves of the monster-machine of public relations.”

– Brouwer, Life, Art, and Mysticism

“The more the words,
the less the meaning,
and how does that profit anyone?”

– Ecclesiastes 6:11

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
There is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
The world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’
Doesn’t make any sense.”

– Rumi

“Vows are spoken
To be broken
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable
[…]
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm”

– Depeche Mode, Enjoy the Silence

“What can be said at all can be said clearly; and whereof one cannot speak thereof one must be silent.”

– Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus

“Silence is sexy
Silence is sexy
So sexy
So silence
Silence is sexy
Silence is sexy
So sexy
So sexy”

-From Silence is Sexy by Blixa Bargeld of Einstürzende Neubauten

Woke up this morning and my head was in a daze,
Brave new world had dawned upon the human race,
Words are meaningless and everything’s surreal,
Gonna have to reach my friends to find out how I feel,
And if I taste the honey, is it really sweet?
And do I eat it with my hands or with my feet?
Does anybody really listen when I speak or will I have to say it all again next week?

– Shakespears Sister, Hello (Turn Your Radio On)

And it’s not enough
To tell me that you care,
When we both know the words are empty air.

– Calvin Harris, Sweet Nothing

We are spendthrifts with words,
We squander them,
Toss them like pennies in the air—
Arrogant words,
Angry words,
Cruel words,
Comradely words,
Shy words tiptoeing from mouth to ear.

But the slowly wrought words of love
And the thunderous words of heartbreak—
These we hoard.

– Words, by Pauli Murray

I want more and more and more and more and …

Trying to decipher the lyrics to I Want More by Can. They’re not online. Here’s what I can get:

(Thanks to Rachel P got the rest – ta Rach 🙂 )

Everybody
Plays a game
We don’t have to
Say the name
If we take a
Summary
Boys say girls just aint the same

I don’t have to
Say no more
You know what I’m
Aiming for
Don’t care if I
Break a law
I want more and more and more

Everybody
Plays a game
Boys say girls just
Aint the same
You know what I’m
Aiming for
I want more and more and more and more and more and more and …

Bit (1) sounds something like “Ah-fré Descarte” (definitely not a “René”, and probably not a Descarte either – the vocals are badly cut up) and (2) sounds something like “Sanmoré”. Google is failing me. I want it to be the name of a funky author who’s going to say more about playing games (would fit well with Wittgenstein, Laing, and friends), but it’s probably just a cut up copy of some of the other lyrics.