Das Lied zum Sonntag

I found an underlying theme for this autumn: disbanded favourite bands I feel nostalgic about, which I all never got to see live and while knowing that it's usually a good thing if a band stops making music together when they realize that they have done everything they can, still regret to have lost.

Pretty Girls Make Graves - All Medicated Geniuses

There's a kid with a golden arm
He admits to the forest fire
That he started up from a lack of something better going on

This kid with the golden arm
He admits to the forest fire
That he started up from a lack of something better going on
Tell your friends it's a four alarm
Just a smoke screen we're all liars
Better to stew in discontent than to admit we’re wrong

Our motivations out to sea
And our ideas they die so quickly

This town has good hearts
Bad blood, emotional scars
Never gettin to say what you really wanna say
This town has good hearts
Bad blood, emotional scars
Never gettin to say what you really wanna say

We all lie so well
We all lie so well

There’s a kid with a golden arm
He admits to the forest fire
That he started up from a lack of something better going on
Tell your friends it's a four alarm.
Just a smoke screen we're all liars.
Better to stew in discontent than to admit we're wrong

If misery loves company
Then it seems to swim so much more forcibly
In the song of other people's failures

Doctor, do you have a remedy?
Doctor, this is not alright by me
Do you think that you have the strength for a city
that's so spent and sick?

We all lie so well
We all lie so well

[on "The New Romance", 2003]

By the way, "We all lie so well" is actually the title of my handwritten diary for this year.