Song picture
Lost and Found
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song about a city, a girl, a murder, an airport, and a field
gargo nabokov marxism fol
Artist picture
We were born of an eclectic heart and spirit of classical music folk goth and garage guitar Chopin the Velvet Underground Cobain Dylan Dvorak the Cure and broug
Born of an eclectic heart and spirit of classical music and garage guitar, and molded by contempt for “pop” and all things overly contrived and commodified, the Nabokov Project attempts to meld sounds as if painting rather than simply “composing.” Although the goal of these songs is not to move the listener to a vocal or lyrical “hook” that is then stuck in their head in a less than pleasurable repetition of notes and words, this in no way signifies that you won’t walk around all day with the whispers of these pieces in your head We believe that there is a deeper pleasure just beyond the accessibility of “pop,” which doesn’t abandon pop but doesn’t relegate the attempt at musical “art” to the background in the name of reaching the largest mainstream audience possible. Music is something of the “people” and for the “people” and when it is marketed (which is inevitable at this stage of capitalism), often we loose more than we gain. the Nabokov Project is about returning to that bareness, the essential that is lost in our progress into the post-al world where music matters only in that it can be sold and profited on.
Song Info
Charts
#21,820 today Peak #135
#6,772 in subgenre Peak #38
Author
m. w. gargo
Rights
2001
Uploaded
April 29, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 5.7 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
This song is about living in a rather innocent, crime-free place and then moving to a bigger city with all of its blood and glass.
Lyrics
I own the lost & found He owns the airport I own the airwaves and all the spaces Inside my cardboard box, there are pieces that don’t belong I own the lost & found. She owns the sellers of the parts I have a cardboard box She has the pieces Between the buildings You call those spaces Dig up the concrete Put in a building again But if we don’t want it They’ll build it up faster for sure Because you call them spaces And they call them places you don’t belong I own the lost & found He owns the sellers of the parts I have a cardboard box He has the pieces I saw a girl today her pretty face was real low Behind her silence, there was violence for sure She’s got a space some broken parts She told me to go away and put her hand against my sweater I own the lost & found He owns the sellers of the parts I have a cardboard box He has the pieces I know a neighborhood A man there was shot up good Blood in their sidewalk Blood on their windowpanes He had a child A blue-eyed boy But someone was angry Someone was sad enough to kill I own the lost & found She owns the sellers of the parts I have a cardboard box She has the pieces Driving a dirt road You see a haystack in the bend Get out of the car seat Run in the hay field But you see their lover And they think you love her to death Get back in the car And drive until you forget that face I own the lost & found She owns the airport He owns the milkweed She owns the monarch butterfly But I own the whole damn field
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