Magic Jewball

In lieu of a post, I really wanted to just list various lines of songs that I’ve been listening to over some eight hours of baking these last two nights. Things like:

And so I quit the police department, and got myself a steady job.

Dear hero imprisoned….

It’s a beautiful life, my life.

I’m lying on the floor of the night before, with a stranger lying next to me.

On dit qu’il y fait toujours beau, c’est là que migrent les oiseaux.

There’s a knock on the door, and just for a second I thought I remembered you.

You never loved your frozen freight, perishables and bloodless meat.

Anei ra maua e piri tahi nei.

Oh, hey I just did! Music to bake by, it makes me happy. I remember the first Purim I baked on my own, in my sophomore year of college. I was listening to the classic rock station in Baltimore and thinking of holidays at home. Good times… and I mean that sincerely.

And now for the video. You know what the happiest song of the ones above is? The one about the murderers. I’m not sure what that says about my musical taste. North of the City will know that the thing about this song that makes me the happiest is how Morrissey can make the word “playboys” into three syllables.

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