The anniversary of Love Run is approaching, and I have an idea for how to celebrate!
You know those lyric videos where the whole song is written in AO3 fic titles (like this, this, and this)? We’re pretty close to being able to do this for several songs from the album. It would be really cool if we could manage to make that happen around the anniversary!
These are the lines from King, Elsa’s Song, and Not Yet / Love Run that have not been used as titles yet. They need stories! Feel free to use as a promptlist, or just claim a line and start writing. No pressure, obviously -- I just thought this could be a fun way to celebrate!
Reblogs/signal boosting would be much appreciated <3
King
When you are gone away
As our boat is untethered from the dock
There’ve been times I know
I’ll stand up up up at the bow
And the waves of our bodies and the smell of our follies
You fumble through the dark
To the light that you keep burning there (all hell)
I know your fingernails are the colour of rust (come back)
And your veins are empty of dust (but our voices)
The wind and its shackles, the old fishers tackles
Elsa’s Song
I can hear the cannons calling
Around this muddied lot
I cannot hear them scream
Cos although you say good day to me
That I barely know the meaning
And all the cannons shot
And in years to come you’ll wander
And then you’ll cry to our painted sky
And you’ll strew some sage and lilies
And roses where I rot
Not Yet/Love Run
By hook or by crooked look give me land
The oh’s of your screams still echo in yer dreams
I’ll point you steer
It seems oh it seems / To me / That you / You can’t sleep
Grab the stroud
It’s time to fight don’t be yellow bellied
Hold the bar at Hurley's hurly burly's
Out of pillows and get drunk again
It seems oh it seems / To me / That you / You can’t dance / For shit
If my old mum could see me now
Oh how she’d howl she’d howl
Don’t turn 'round
O let the earth a-tumble, love
And humble you withal, keep running
Let foul men band and heed your hum
For that ancient hymn you heard me strumming?
Is nought but fumble-falls and guns / And tumbleweeds.
It's nought that rum won't solve
Though some would harm you, none - not one - no none / Will raise to you a hand nor thumb.
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