C'mere

Following that, I thought about writing something on the ability we show sometimes to self-delude ourselves, to say that something has no value, as if our saying would indeed change the value of something, even the value for ourselves. I know not the when or the how - I just know it to be true, and I know exactly what will follow. But I'm writing exactly what I said I wouldn't write, and I'll stop here and stick to the original plan: there's no need for me to write anything when someone else did it better than I ever could. As lyrics, with guitar and bass and drums and one hell of a voice. Interpol, C'mere (Antics, 2004):

It's way too late to be this locked inside ourselves
The trouble is that you're in love with someone else
It should be me. Oh, it should be me
Sacred parts, your get aways
You come along on summer days
Tenderly, tastefully

And so may, we make time
Try to find somebody else
This place is mine

You said today, you know exactly how I feel
I had my doubts little girl
I'm in love with something real
It could be me, that's changing!

And so may, we make time
To try and find somebody else
Who has a line

Now season with health
Two lovers walk a lakeside mile
Try pleasing with stealth, rodeo
See what stands long ending fast

Oh, how I love you
And in the evening, when we are sleeping
We are sleeping. Oh, we are sleeping

And so may, we make time
We try to find somebody else
Who has a line

Now season with health
Two lovers walk a lakeside mile
Try pleasing with stealth, rodeo
See what stands long ending fast

And it goes like this: