Fiona Apple: Tidal (1996)

(x,x,x,x,x,x)

Björk Lyrics as Tarot Cards

0. The Fool

I don’t know my future

After this weekend

And I don’t want to

I. The Magician

I’m going hunting

I’m the hunter

II. The High Priestess

Fuck logic

Fuck logic

Bravo to instinct

III. The Empress

The pleasure is all mine

Women like us

We strengthen most

Host-like

IV. The Emperor

Stand up

You’ve got to manage

I won’t sympathize

Anymore

V. The Hierophant

Coincidence

Makes sense

Only with you

VI. The Lovers

I never thought I would compromise

Let’s unite, tonight

VII. The Chariot

I have guided my bones

Through some voltage

VIII. Justice

Your sense of justice

Murmurs underneath

How am I going to make it right?

IX. The Hermit

I live by the ocean

And during the night

I dive into it

Down to the bottom

X. Wheel of Fortune

Unthinkable surprises

About to happen

XI. Lust

This is sex without touching

I’m going to explore

I’m only into this to

Enjoy

XII. The Hanged Man

Then the body memory kicks in

I trust the unknown

Unfathomable imagination

Surrender to future

XIII. Death

I just have to

Explode

Explode this body

Off me

XIV. Art

The perfect match, you and me

I adapt, contagious

You open up, say welcome

XV. The Devil

Sue me, sue me, sue me

All you want

XVI. The Tower

My shield is gone

My protection is taken

I am one wound

XVII. The Star

I am fine tuning my soul

To the universal wavelength

No one is a lover alone

XVIII. The Moon

Isn’t it odd?

Isn’t it peculiar?

These statistics of my mind

XIX. The Sun

You can’t say no to hope

Can’t say no to happiness

XX. The Aeon

Loss of faith just ignites survivors

They stare doubt

Straight into the eye

I forgive, the past is bondage

XI. The Universe

Twist your head around

It’s all around you

All is full of love

All around you

currently losing the idgaf wars

but it’s a ✨ choice ✨

today i must be a recovering passive-aggressive personality. how can people sit on a train and not notice each other? how can people resist the urge to connect somehow? not compulsively, totally without tact or genility but sometimes strangers do recognize each other. of course, i'm talking about young females. not to fuck or to fuck with but maybe just to satisfy curiosity ... or maybe my hormones are still working overtime, just like my beautiful filthy mind, and i seek some very light entertainment. can people feel my eyes on them as i do theirs on me? do we all know that we're here in this social prison system? why aren't we prepared to have more fun being human beings? will women ever outgrow the scars inflicted upon them by a world ruled by men? must my fantasies be stuck working overtime? living in the abstract is a cancer and a hell, my love, and the leveling of a heated daydream to the edicts of blessed reality is a sad and necessary execution to witness ... the beheading of a tortured blond haired boy-child. and all of the garbage that was stuffed in his skull is now carried to the pyre to burn and add to the stench of all the other little deaths caused by the impotence of his judgement throughout his life. his overgrown life raised by a spank-wielding kissing machine. my hair looks like shit and I'm feeling embarrassed and ugly all around.

Days of Heaven 1978, dir. Terrence Malick

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