Imagery And Non-Fictional Make Believe

Damn she creates such beautiful stories with her prose. The thing is, her prose isn't the epitome of classical and fluid art or what you would typically deem to be damn beautiful like when you look at a sunset, but it's purposely intertwined with a major modernity, definitely making it all a genre of her own. She plays with sounds in words, not just sounds with instruments, but with all possibilities- she combines different words together and there is a real structure to it. It isn't all over the place- there is actually a great organization to her music. And she's making it all up. 
She's inventing something new and different- odd and strange, pleasant and beautiful, everything and anything she wants, all on purpose- just 'cause she can. When you hear something like this, it's as if you can almost feel the endless depth of where this great piece came from. Only a mere insight to her genius though (I don't think anyone really knows completely what goes on in anyone's head for the matter)- I don't know what goes on in that head, but I kind of really like it.

To be honest, this one is a bit eerie and haunting actually. But I just couldn't take my ears away from it. No, it's really scary if you think about it. Seriously though, her lyrics seem to really tell these stories that have such intense ulterior meanings. It's amazing how she does this and what/who she chooses to write a story about. You'll see what I mean when I say her stuff is so friggen intense. But I love this kind of stuff. Blame it on my too passionate nature.



Some said the local lake had been enchanted
Others said it must have been the weather
The neighbors were trying to keep it quiet
But I swear that I could hear the laughter
So they jokingly nicknamed it the porridge
'cause overnight that lake had turned to thick as butter
But the local kids would still go swimming, drinking
Saying hat to them it doesn't matter

If you just hold in your breath
Til you come back up in full
Hold in your breath
'til you thought it through, you, fool

The genius next door was busing table
Wiping clean the ketchup labels
Getting high and muttering German fables
Didn't care as long as he was able
To strip his clothes off by the dumpster
At night while everyone was sleeping
And wade midway into that porridge
Just him and his secret he was keeping

In the morning the film crews start arriving
With donuts, coffee and reporters
The kids are waking up hung over
The neighbors were starting up their cars
The garbage men were emptying the dumpsters
Atheists were praying full of sarcasm
And the genius next door was sleeping
Dreaming that the antidote is orgasm

If you just hold in your breath 'til you come back up in full
Hold in your breath 'til you've thought it through, you foolish child