why do all of my personal folk heroes come with beards…? and fulfill a couple of other clichés, when you really think about it? like the slightly depressed air about them, that screams “intellectual!”, “poet!” and “weltschmerz!”? sad eyes, disheveled look, grubbylooking clothes. they all look and feel like they’re about to fall off the planet or vanish into thin air. but oh, i love their voice. their dramatic tunes make me feel good about life. like i’m not alone with my worries (although i have not really a lot of worries on my mind today, but i mean in general).
when i listen to keaton henson’s music, i feel like i belong. like somebody understands me. i want to keep his tunes and words in mind forever, hug them tight, go to bed with them. he’s very young, but a big poet. seems he’s a multitalent, as his art is also pretty rad (see above). i think i have a crush.
listen to this song first. read these lines first.
you don’t know how lucky you are – keaton henson
Does he know who you are? Does he laugh, just to know what he has?
Does he know not to talk about your dad? Does he know when you’re sad?
You don’t like to be touched, Let alone kissed.
Does he know where your lips begin?
Do you know who you are? Do you laugh, just to think what I lack?
Do you know your lip shakes when you’re mad? And do you notice when you’re sad?