See, no matter how many times I listen to "She's a Handsome Woman" and read people discuss it, I can't get over the way it's written. And Brendon does a really nice job of mushing it all together but I will just always think it's a song about/with the scraped album stories/bits.
Which doesn't take away from the progress of the song itself, Innocence to Bombed reverie, because from what Ryan Ross said that album was supposed to be a musical - with a start, a middle and an ending - anyway. But he couldn't finish it.
He also said he didn't wanna make an album about becoming famous and being disillusioned by it, but instead of being swayed by that, I'm taking it as "When I got pass the middle I realized the ending is not true and we made this new totally positive album 'cause you didn't beat us down with your bullshit."
Innocence. Sunk the glow and drowned in covers, send for all your absent lover's things.
Sheepish Wolves. Looking lived in eating buttons, Wink, just don't put your teeth on me.
Accidents. Let the evening in the backdoor, filled the room ceiling to the floor.
Beat backbones. Grazed the poem and made it strange, I wasn't born to be a skeleton.
Go on, grab your hat and fetch a camera. Go on, film the world before it happens.
Jealous orchard. The sky is falling off the ceiling while I'm tucking fibs into a cookie jar.
Bombed reverie. It's useless searching in the cupboard when everything you have is on your back.
Not that I need to but I'llrant explain anyway.
( Cut. Cause that is how much I like you. )
Which doesn't take away from the progress of the song itself, Innocence to Bombed reverie, because from what Ryan Ross said that album was supposed to be a musical - with a start, a middle and an ending - anyway. But he couldn't finish it.
He also said he didn't wanna make an album about becoming famous and being disillusioned by it, but instead of being swayed by that, I'm taking it as "When I got pass the middle I realized the ending is not true and we made this new totally positive album 'cause you didn't beat us down with your bullshit."
Innocence. Sunk the glow and drowned in covers, send for all your absent lover's things.
Sheepish Wolves. Looking lived in eating buttons, Wink, just don't put your teeth on me.
Accidents. Let the evening in the backdoor, filled the room ceiling to the floor.
Beat backbones. Grazed the poem and made it strange, I wasn't born to be a skeleton.
Go on, grab your hat and fetch a camera. Go on, film the world before it happens.
Jealous orchard. The sky is falling off the ceiling while I'm tucking fibs into a cookie jar.
Bombed reverie. It's useless searching in the cupboard when everything you have is on your back.
Not that I need to but I'll
( Cut. Cause that is how much I like you. )