'Jet Black New Year'
by Thursday

Don't even take a breath
The air is cut with cyanide
In honor of the New Year

The press gives us cause to celebrate:
These air raid sirens
Flood barbed wire skylines
By artificial night,
As we sleep to burn the red
From our bloodless lives.
Tonight we're all time bombs
on fault lines.

Have we lost everything now?
We're walking
like each other's ghosts
Around these silent streets
(the sedatives tell you everything
is alright)

Like calendars dying
at New Year's Eve parties
As we kiss hard on the lips
and swear this year
will be better than the last
Jet Black - the ink that spells your name
Jet Black - the blood that's in your veins
Jet Black - we say, "How long can we take this chance not to celebrate?"

There's music playing
But we dance to the beat
Of our own black hearts
And draw diagrams
Of suicide on each other's wrists
Then trace them with razorblades

Fire to flames
"Strike Match."

Burn these words from our lips
As 'The Daggar' screams
"Love is dead"
and it's a "newspaper tragedy,"

Have we lost what we love?
Have we said everything?
Does it change anything?
Stare at the clock
Avoid at all costs,
This emptiness.

Have we lost everything now?
We're walking
like each other's ghosts
Around these silent streets
(the sedatives tell you everything
is alright)

Like calendars dying
at New Year's Eve parties
As we kiss hard on the lips
and swear this year
will be better then the last

Have we lost everything now?
We're walking
like each other's ghosts
Around these silent streets
(the sedatives tell you everything
is alright)

Like calendars dying
at New Year's Eve parties
As we kiss hard on the lips
and swear this year
this year

Ten seconds left
until midnight
nine chances to drown ourselves
in black hair dye
eight faces turned away
from the shock:
seven windows and six of them
were locked
five stories falling
forever and ever
three cheers to the mirror
now there are two of us
can we have one last dance?

Jet Black - the ink that spells your name
Jet Black - the blood that's in your veins
Jet Black - we say, "How long can we take this chance not to celebrate?"
Jet Black - the ink that spells your name
Jet Black - the blood that's in your veins
Jet Black - we say, "How long can we take this chance not to celebrate life?"

---

I thought this fitting for my first post since it is on New Year's Day. Its a great song. Pretty sad in reality, though.

This is what the song is probably about. Its a story from the linear note from the CD:

"When the crowd parted for the paramedics, we already knew it wasn't necessary. The street was painted a purple-red with that boy's blood. On impact, his body had folded on itself; he looked like he was praying to the mailbox. The air was turning the blood on the sidewalk rust brown, but in his hair it stayed a dark red. It seemed to get redder with every flash of the newspaperman's camera. I took the train back to New Jersey where my girlfriend and I were going to a New Year's Eve party.
"I'm having the worst day, what a way to end the year," she shouted in my ear as the faces flashed by in the strobe light and the floorboards shook with music. "I lost my purse and someone spilled red wine all over me." The sight of the wine in the dark made my mouth water and every pulse of the strobe was the eye of the photographer's camera.
"At least I've got you," she winked. I bit down on my lip and the afternoon flooded into my blood like an IV drip: the crowd's bland faces; reporters searching for the parents; the steam drifting from the young boy's broken mouth; the pair of sneakers tangled in the power lines hanging like a forgotten mistletoe.
"Hey, where are you?" She pleaded. But I was right there. The blood was soaking into my untied shoelace as we watched the ambulance pull up. I was right there: The calm voices of the paramedics made the temperature drop twenty degrees. I was right there: They zipped up the black bag and I couldn't breathe.
"You better not be in another one of your moods. Not tonight."
I tried to listen, but I couldn't resist the pull of the breathing open window. I saw myself running to it and lunging straight through it. I felt like I was suffocating in a zipped-up black bag.
"I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to deal with you ignoring me this year. That's my resolution! Good bye."
I had to lock myself in the bathroom to stop myself from jumping out the window. In the mirror, my dirty blond hair was tinged red. I tried closing my eyes but when I looked in the mirror my hair was saturated, a thick crimson. The New Year cheers sounded like screams through the door and I swore that I'd never let myself care about anything else ever again. The next morning the paper said that a boy had falled out of an unlocked window in his parent's apartment in New York. I dyed my hair the darkest black I could find. A black so dark it could cover the deepest blood red and suffocate the brighest halo."
-from linear notes of 'Five Stories Falling' by Thursday

Hope you all have had a better New Year than the one in that story. Check back tomorrow for another song from my life's soundtrack.

-=The Prynce