So in my fiendish spree @ the iTunes Music Store, I downloaded that infamous Corinne Bailey Rae song... "Girl put your records on/ Tell me your favorite song/ You go ahead, let your hair down."
Apparently I know a lot of people who haven't heard it. Accolades to youtube.com for having so many incarnations:
Post-spree the track ended up on a mix for my Subaru. So I've been hearing it a lot. And the first thing I consider, every time I hear it, is making out with a girl. I imagine that should a femme fling actually feel, taste, smell and look like this song sounds... well, I'd get into it. I may have to wait 'till the summer. Light, warm, and fuzzy doesn't seem to turn up in the winter months. November and December were made for love like a Christmas tree: electric, prickly, rough, smelly, and perhaps too bright for reality.
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