"My Heart Is Heavy" My heart is heavy with many a song
Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree,
But I can never give you one --
My songs do not belong to me. Yet in the evening, in the dusk
When moths go to and fro,
In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen,
Take it, no one will know. Sarah Teasdale
Three demos of some songs I wrote recently. Very, very simple demos, recorded quickly in my room, but who cares? the songs remain the same...
This video was recorded a few days ago by my sister Clara. I wrote 'Knife On Mars' last summer, and I must say it's still a personal favorite.
This is a song I've been covering a lot these days—it's from Dylan's 1976 album, 'Desire'.
I added the organ track near the end of the tune to make it sound kind of like 'Like A Rolling Stone'. I don't think it was ever intended to be sung by a girl though... lol.
Here's a song from one of my gigs in NYC! I can't believe this is three years old. Actually, yeah, when I watch the video, I totally can, lol. This video was recorded in 2006, and I wrote 'Flamingo', the song I'm singing in this video, in.... 2005! Yes, 2005. That's a 4 year-old song.
Merry, merry is the nerd,
surfing like a flying bird ;
flying over the boundary
between the material world and the binary.
Nintendos before hoes they say,
rocking the casbah all the way.
(my graduating exams start in 3 days...)
(science for the last 3 years i've been loving you)
(but soon it'll be all over, baby blue)
I've told everything that could be told
Worn everything that could be worn
and now I'm helpless.
How can I accept the fact
that my desires are abstract?
If there's no negativity
then what room is there for humanity
to throw itself against animal bones
and jag and chisel its bare bones?
If my skin evolved into steel
would I be skinless?
Between negative and positive infinities,
we lose our sense of responsabilities,
wondering 'what are the odds that before I grow old
I'll manage to make sense' and then I'm told
by some creep about duality :
'if there is room for you, there's room for me.'
United kindly we keep on keeping on,
being one among a path of ones,
I sing random rhymes in a soup of prose,
does it make me soulless?
The leaves of monochronic trees,
made dynamic by some careless breeze,
get tangled with my thoughts as they pass me by,
reflecting blue shades of the sky.
And together I watch them fly away,
my mind blank and cold and grey.
Nu, what did you do? I've heard the police is after you.
Nu, what didn't you do? I've heard the police is after you.
Nu, what will you do? I've heard the police is after you.
I'm a 17 year-old french girl whose resemblance with Emma Watson has been confusing Asian tourists for the last 8 years, that's all.
