this song is too short for it’s own good </333

Every Mitski Song

Mitski-Circle

Mitski - Wife

Mitski - Door

This song was written by Harriet Wheeler & David Gavurin and originally released as the first single by The Sundays in 1989.

Give me a story and give me a bed
Give me possessions
Oh love, luck, and money, they go to my head like wildfire
It's good to have something to live for, you'll find
Live for tomorrow
Live for a job and a perfect behind, high time

England my country, the home of the free
Such miserable weather
But England's as happy as England can be
Why cry?

And did you know desire's a terrible thing
The worst that I can find
And did you know desire's a terrible thing
But I rely on mine

England my country, the home of the free
Such miserable weather
But England's as happy as England can be
Why cry?

And did you know desire's a terrible thing
The worst that I can find
And did you know desire's a terrible thing
But I rely on mine
Did you know desire's a terrible thing
It makes the world go blind
But if desire, desire's a terrible thing
You know that I really don't mind

And it's my life
And it's my life
And though I can't be sure what I want any more
It will come to me later
Well, it's my life
And it's my life
And though I can't be sure if I want any more
It will come to me later


Can't Be Sure

Puberty 2

Happy

Dan the Dancer

Bury Me At Makeout Creek

Texas Reznikoff

Be the Cowboy

Geyser

Come into the Water

Old Friend

Lonesome Love

Blue Light

A Pearl

Why Didn't You Stop Me?

Two Slow Dancers

Sometimes, Mitski feels life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what’s truly hers, what can’t be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. “The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people,” she says. “I wish I could leave behind all the love I have after I die, so I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I’ve created onto other people.” She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will shine love long after she’s gone. That’s precisely how it feels: like a love that’s haunting the land.

“This is my most American album,” she says. The music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. Sonically Mitski’s most epic and wise album, the songs introduce wounds and then actively heal them. Here, love is time-traveling to bless our tender days, like light from a distant star.

It's full of the ache of the grown-up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It’s a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything and everyone is crying out in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning and then rejecting us. To love this place, this earth, this America, this body takes work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Lonesome Love

Mitski

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