Love,part 2

I made a post on “love” the other day.  Well  .  .  . here’s another one: sibling love.

My brother and I are so very close. In all of our years together, we have been like the best friends ever in the history of mankind.  If I could wish just one thing on the rest of humanity, it would be to allow everyone to experience that love between siblings shared by my brother and me.

There’s a song that exemplifies that feeling to a “T”.   The lyrics follow and you can click here  .  .  . to hear (and see).  Love to all.

“Mr. Jones”   by Counting Crows

I was down at the New Amsterdam, staring at this yellow-haired girl.
Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with this black-haired flamenco dancer.
She dances while his father plays guitar.
She’s suddenly beautiful.
We all want something beautiful.
I wish I was beautiful.
So come dance this silence down through the morning .

Cut up, Maria! Show me some of them Spanish dances.
Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones.
Believe in me.
Help me believe in anything.
‘Cause I, I want to be someone who believes.

Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales,
And we stare at the beautiful women.
“She’s looking at you. Ah, no, no, she’s looking at me.”
Smiling in the bright lights,
Coming through in stereo.
When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely.

Well, I will paint my picture.
Paint myself in blue and red and black and gray .
All of the beautiful colors are very, very meaningful.
Well, you know, grey is my favorite color.
I felt so symbolic yesterday.
If I knew Picasso
I would buy myself a gray guitar and play.

Mr. Jones and me look into the future,
And we stare at the beautiful women.
“She’s looking at you.
Uh, I don’t think so. She’s looking at me.”
Standing in the spotlight,
I bought myself a gray guitar,
When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely,

I want to be a lion,
Err  .  .  . Everybody wants to pass as cats,
We all want to be big big stars, but we got different reasons for that,

Believe in me because I don’t believe in anything
and I want to be someone to believe, to believe, to believe.

Mr. Jones and me stumbling through the barrio,
Yeah we stare at the beautiful women.
“She’s perfect for you, Man, there’s got to be somebody for me.”
I want to be Bob Dylan;
Mr. Jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky.
When everybody loves you,ah  son, that’s just about as funky as you can be.

Mr. Jones and me, staring at the video.
When I look at the television, I want to see me staring right back at me.
We all want to be big stars, but we don’t know why, and we don’t know how.
But when everybody loves me, I’m going to be just about as happy as I can be.
Mr. Jones and me, we’re gonna be big stars.

copyright  2012  blackstarr



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