Me sale bien escuchar música triste (parte 2)

Parte 1 aquí.

Parte 2. En la que simplemente copio y pego 30 versos tristes de canciones que me hacen sentir mejor.

I told you I would return
When the robin makes his nest
But I ain’t never coming back.

Weezer. “Butterfly”.

I’ve got a right to be depressed
I’ve given every inch I had to fight it
I have seen too much of this world, yes
And it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…

Car Seat Headrest. “Fill in the Blank”.

How to fight loneliness
Smile all the time
Shine you teeth ’til meaningless
Sharpen them with lies.

Wilco. “How to Fight Loneliness”

I would watch you look right through me
Right through every word that I say.

Angel Olsen. “Never Be Mine”.

And it doesn’t seem fair
That your wicked words should work in holding me down
No, it doesn’t seem right
To take information
Given at close range
For the gag, and the bind, and the ammunition round

Fiona Apple. “Not About Love”.

Sorrow found me when I was young
Sorrow waited, sorrow won
Sorrow, they put me on the pill
It’s in my honey, it’s in my milk.

The National. “Sorrow”.

I could dress in black and read Camus
Smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth
Like I was 17
That would be a scream
But I don’t want to get over you.

The Magnetic Fields. “I Don’t Want to Get Over You”.

And when you go, take this heart
I’ll make no more use of it when there’s no more you.

Mitski. “Happy”.

I can feel it in my bones
I’m gonna spend another year alone
It’s fuck and run, fuck and run
Even when I was seventeen
Fuck and run, fuck and run
Even when I was twelve.

Liz Phair. “Fuck and run”.

I’ve been a moonshiner
For seventeen long years
I’ve spent all my money
On whiskey and beer
I go to some hollow
And sit at my still
And if whiskey dont kill me
Then I dont know what will.

Mi hermosa Cat Power. “Moonshiner” (Bob Dylan cover).

Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We’re idiots, babe
It’s a wonder we can even feed ourselves.

Bob Dylan. “Idiot Wind”.

You who wish to conquer pain
You must learn, learn to serve me well.

Leonard Cohen. “Avalanche”.

Sylvia, get your head out of the oven
Go back to screaming and cursing
Remind me again how everyone betrayed you.

The Antlers. “Sylvia”

The ones who love us best are the ones we’ll lay to rest
And visit their graves on holidays at best
The ones who love us least are the ones we’ll die to please
If it’s any consolation, I don’t begin to understand them.

The Replacements. “Bastards of Young”.


Si alguien se está tomando la molestia de escuchar estas canciones en orden como si fuera un playlist (¡oh sí! hagan eso), AQUÍ sería el intermedio instrumental:

I can make you satisfied in everything you do
All your secret wishes could right now be coming true
And be forever with my poison arms around you

Elliott Smith. “Angeles”.

Don’t let it bring you down
It’s only castles burning
Find someone who’s turning
And you will come around.

Neil Young. “Don’t Let It Bring You Down”

So, I’m pouring some whiskey, I’m gonna get drunk
Yeah, I’m pouring myself some whiskey
I’m gonna get real fucking drunk
I’m pouring some whiskey right now
I’m going to get so, so drunk
That I pass out and forget your face
By the time I wake up.

Bright Eyes. “It’s Cool, We Can Still Be Friends”.

Break my legs so I won’t walk to you
Cut my tongue so I can’t talk to you
Burn my skin so I can’t feel you
Stab my eyes so I can’t see.

Sharon Van Etten. “Your Love Is Killing Me”.

We found your man, he’s drinking up, he’s all-american
And he’ll drive
He’s volunteered with grace to end your life.

Brand New. “Limousine”.

Everything that keeps me together is falling apart
I’ve got this thing that I consider my only art
of fucking people over.

Modest Mouse. “3rd Planet”.

I’ll always be on my own
Fucked and alone.

Wavves. “Afraid of Heights”.

I thought I would be more than this.

Cloud Nothings. “Wasted Days”.

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return.

Nat King Cole. “Nature Boy”.

In a river the color of lead
Immerse the baby’s head
Wrap her up in the News Of The World
Dump her on a doorstep, girl.

The Smiths. “This Night Has Opened My Eyes”.

I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets.

Tori Amos. “Crucify”.

I love you, but I’m afraid to love you
I’m afraid…

Jeff Buckley. “So Real”.

I don’t believe in an interventionist God
But I know, darling, that you do
But if I did, I would kneel down and ask Him
Not to intervene when it came to you
Oh, not to touch a hair on your head
Leave you as you are
If he felt he had to direct you
Then direct you into my arms.

Nick Cave. “Into My Arms”.

Your eyes are almost dead, can’t get out of bed
And you can’t sleep.

Big Star. “Holocaust”.

I’m killing myself but it’s not suicide
I’m killing myself but my friends will never know
Because I’ve never been
Because I’ve never been honest with anyone.

of Montreal. “No Conclusion”.

We’re all gonna die.

Sufjan Stevens. “Fourth of July”.

P.D.: En español hay muchas canciones para emos como yo, pero al tratar de meter un idioma diferente, siempre interfiere con cierta “coherencia estética”. Así que tal vez haya una parte 3 de esto… aunque lo dudo.

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