If It Makes You Less Sad
I Will Die By Your Hand
I Hope You Find Out What You Want
I Already Know What I Am
And If It Makes You Less Sad
We'll Start Talking Again
And You Can Tell Me How Vile
I Already Know That I Am

I'll Grow Old
And Start Acting My Age
I'll Be A Brand New Day
In A Life That You Hate
A Crown Of Gold
A Heart That's Harder Than Stone
And It Hurts A Whole Lot
But It's Missed When It's Gone

Call Me A Safe Bet
I'm Betting I'm Not
I'm Glad That You Can Forgive
Only Hoping As Time Goes
You Can Forget

If It Makes You Less Sad
I'll Move Out Of The State
You Can Keep To Yourself
I'll Keep Out Of Your Way
And If It Makes You Less Sad
I'll Take Your Pictures All Down
Every Picture You Paint
I Will Paint Myself Out
It's As Cold As A Tomb
And It's Dark In Your Room
When I Sneak To Your Bed
To Pour Salt In Your Wounds
So Call It Quits
Or Get A Grip
Say You Wanted A Solution
You Just Wanted To Be Missed

Call Me A Safe Bet
I'm Betting I'm Not
I'm Glad That You Can Forgive
Only Hoping As Time Goes
You Can Forget
So You Can Forget
You Can Forget

You Are Calm And Reposed
Let Your Beauty Unfold
Pale White Like The Skin
Stretched Over Your Bones
Spring Keeps You Ever Close
You Are Second Hand Smoke
You Are So Fragile And Thin
Standing Trial For Your Sins
Holding Onto Yourself The Best You Can
You Are The Smell Before The Rain
You Are The Blood In My Veins

Call Me A Safe Bet
I'm Betting I'm Not
I'm Glad That You Can Forgive
I'm Only Hoping As Time Goes
You Can Forget

So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing and the Band
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend your cool...


OPENING CREDITS: Rosalita(Come Out Tonight)-Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band


WAKING UP: In Between Days-The Cure


FIRST DAY AT SCH00L: Happy Faces-The Maccabees


FALLING IN LOVE: Down In A Rabbit Hole-Bright Eyes


COLLEGE:To The Dogs Or Whoever-Josh Ritter


FIGHT SONG: Breakout-Foo Fighters


BREAKING UP: Killing Moon-Echo & The Bunnymen


PROM: Temptation Meets You Like Your Naughty Friend-Arctic Monkeys


LIFE: I Am The Highway-Audioslave


MENTAL BREAKDOWN: Not Even Jail-Interpol


DRIVING: Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of-U2


FLASHBACK: Rhododendrons-Bloc Party


GETTING BACK TOGETHER: Assassin-Muse


WEDDING: Goodbye My Lover-James Blunt


BIRTH OF CHILD: Slideshow-Rufus Wainwright


FINAL BATTLE: Animal Nitrate-Suede


DEATH SCENE: Camera-Editors


FUNERAL: King's Call-Thin Lizzy


END CREDITS: Death At One's Elbow-The Smiths

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.


LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grow