The Tea Party ~ These Living Arms
(written: 7 June 2004)
It's every little girls fantasy. To have a giant gothic guardian angel, wearing tight black leather pants... leaping from roof top to roof top keeping watch, ready to swoop down at the slightest hint of danger. Think misty nights, old fashioned English looking street lamps setting the fog on fire, everything black, blue and yellow. Then when she goes to sleep in a huge poster bed... the sheets folded neatly as she lies stiffly like a soon to be vampire victim, possibly wearing a gigantic, ridiculous white nightgown, he slips through the french doors and listens to her breathe.
Heh.
Or not.
What human being with a beating heart wouldn't LOVE to have a song written about them? What maudlin, black eyeliner gooped on, fishnet stocking wearing 17 year old girl (oooor guy) wouldn't kill to have a love song written from beyond the grave. It's all frightfully romantic.
Come on! This song is hot. Jeff Martin, with his fluffy black hair and giant throbbing... angel wings, flitting like a delicate little fairy to comfort his still living love. How literal can I possibly take this song?
If any song written by any band can make me want to sit on the roof and howl at the moon while clutching my pillow, streaked with my tears, this is the one. Destined to be sung in the car, complete with emotive hand gestures.
"With your arms around me, you're singing softly. And I fade from memory and move on. May nothing harm you, I'm still inside you with my wings around you"
*rewinds*
"May nothing harm you, I'm still inside you with my wings around you"
*rewinds*
"I'm still inside you..."
Ok.
Moving on.
For all his pompous Creed-loving ways (I'm talking about Jeff Martin here, not Kam... HA!) the man could write a fucking kick ass love song. Even though in hindsight, if you're in the wrong mood, he can actually make you cringe until your shoulders dislocate. Perhaps he was born in the wrong era. Maybe an 1880's Vampire Cowboy was a vocation he missed out on.
Excuse me while I run around the streets in the rain, sobbing and falling to the curbside, on the off chance that my own personal guardian angel sees fit to finally pay me a visit. Crikey it's enough to make you want to start wearing Doc Boots and lacey undergarments over top of your regular clothes.
This song makes me silly.