Living For The Love Light In Your Eyes - Donovan - Golden Hits (Cassette, Album)
Itchycoo Park: Hits of the 60's . Live at the World Cafe Vol. Lyra . Psychedelia At Abbey Road . Psychedelia [Crimson] . Psychedelia and the Underground . Shorty the Pimp . Summer of Love Album . The Best of the 60s . The Power of Rock . Back to the Sixties [Crimson] .
Chart Toppers [Boxsets ] . Classic 60s Hits, Vol. Comin' Together . Daytrippers, Vol. Dusty Fingers, Vol. Easyriders, Vol. Golden Age of Underground Radio, Vol. Greatest Hits: Acoustic Live . Groovy, Vol. Mellow . Memories Are Made of Hits, Vol. Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance . Nick at Nite: Patio Pool Party . Performance . Psychedelic 60's . Sixties Apocalypse . Sunshine Superman [Remember] .
Sunshine Superman [United Audio] . Chartbusters [Prime Cuts] . Golden Hits . Hank Plays Holly . Peace and Love Songs  . Sutras . The Best of Donovan: Catch the Wind . The Best of Sun Jammin' . Top of the Pops [Prime Cuts] . Undercurrent: Music from the Underground . Vanguard Newport Folk Festival Sampler . Wonderful Music of Donovan . Woodstock Memories . Baby Boomer Classics: Psychedelic Sixties .
Billboard Top Pop Hits: . British Rock [Original Sound] . British Rock, Vol. Cappucino Classics, Vol. Cool Beat: 20 Rock Classics from the Sixties . Folk Music at Newport, Vol. Greatest Hits of the '60s, Vol. Greatest Hits of the Sixties, Vol. Radio Saigon [Arcade] . Rock On UK . Sounds of the Sixties . Summer Breeze, Vol. Sunny Afternoons [Polygram] . The Best of Folk Rock . Troubadours of British Folk, Vol. Antologia: Sus 30 Grandes Canciones . Early Years . Music from the Wonder Years, Vol.
Remember the 60's, Vol. Super Hits of the Sixties [Box] . Super Hits of the Sixties [Disc 2] . Super Hits of the Sixties [Disc 3] . Troubadours of Folk: The 60s Acoustic Explosion . British Sixties . Kid Rock! Legendary Popsongs, Vol.
Psychedelic Mind Trip . Live in Concert . Secret Policeman's Concert . The Oldie Collection, Vol. Troubadour: The Definitive Collection . Troubadours of the Folk Era, Vol. Best of Live [Universal] . Colours . Island of Circles: A Nettwork Compilation . Songs of Protest . Sunshine Superman [LT Series] .
The 60's Revisited: HMV . The Classics Live . The Trip . The Very Best of Donovan [Artful] . Very Best of Donovan [Prism Platinum] . Classic Rock: - Shakin' All Over . Tour of Duty . Classic Rock: Rock Renaissance .
Flower Power [Sony] . Golden Age Of . Our Generation . Rockin' 60's [Sony Special Products] . The Golden Age of Underground Radio . Classic Rock: . Summer of Love, Vol. Secret Policeman's Private Parts . Lady of the Stars . Secret Policeman's Other Ball [Video] .
Troubadour . Donovan . Donovan File . Slow Down World . Endless Summer [St. Clair] . Cosmic Wheels . Early Treasures . Essence to Essence . Golden Hour . HMS Donovan . Open Road . Barabajagal . Barabajagal [Bonus Tracks] .
Donovan's Greatest Hits . Donovan's Greatest Hits [Expanded Edition] . The Best of Donovan [Hickory] . In Concert . The Hurdy Gurdy Man . Where Have All the Flowers Gone? The Songs of Pete Seeger, Vol. A Gift from a Flower to a Garden . For Little Ones . Mellow Yellow . Mellow Yellow [Bonus Tracks] . Sunshine Superman [UK] . Universal Soldier . Wear Your Love Like Heaven . Sunshine Superman [Bonus Tracks] . Sunshine Superman [US] . The Real Donovan .
Fairytale . Fairytale [Bonus Track] . Fairytale [Castle ] . Fairytale [DualDisc] . John Renbourn . Minstrel Boy . American Pie: Singer Songwriter Classics. De Pre Historie:Vol. Good Morning, Vietnam. History of British Rock. History of British Rock, Vol. Jaguar London Calling Collection. Long Hot Summer. Seems Like Yesterday, Vol. Sixties Collection, Vol. Superhit Sixties. Time Life Presents the 60s.
Unknown Album. Share your thoughts on the Donovan Band with the community: 0 Comments. Notify me of new comments via email. Cancel Report. Create a new account. Log In. Missing lyrics by Donovan? Know any other songs by Donovan? Don't keep it to yourself! Add it Here. Donovan's Similar Artists ». The Byrds. The Zombies. The Incredible String Band. The Kinks. Bye, Bye Girl. Every Reason. Season of the Witch. Local Boy Chops Wood. Living for the Love Light in Your Eyes. Till I See You Again.
Sunshine Superman. Release Date August 22, Lady of the Stars Donovan. Not kidding. All of this is the final drafting. While I know that there are only a handful of fics out there about Cecil meeting Carlos's family, but I've noticed that none of them involve the issue of homophobia, which I found vaguely interesting.
While I myself am percent against homophobia, I feel that it is an important topic, especially within the dynamics of a family, that need to be addressed before understanding and acceptance can come into play. While the topic of homophobia will be, indeed, partially central to the plot of this story, it is mostly a fic about Cecil becoming integrated into Carlos's family, with some interesting mishaps along the way.
Love the Christmas. I hope you enjoy! It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffory Crannor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. See the end of the chapter for notes. Hated it. Damned it to hell for all eternity. Carlos groggily groped for the snooze button on the alarm clock next to the bed, refusing to open his eyes. He finally located the offending contraption and jammed his fist down onto it, silencing the wretched crooning that had interrupted his peaceful sleep.
He groaned, forcing himself to turn his head to squint at the fuzzy, glowing green digits in the darkness of the room. He found his glasses where he had left them the night before next to the lamp, and slipped them onto his nose.
The time on the clock swam into view. Carlos groaned again and yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It was nothing short of a miracle that he had managed to sleep through the earsplitting chorus of the alarm clock; Carlos was absolutely convinced that the man could sleep through a nuclear war and wake up the next morning as perky and cheerful as ever.
Careful not to disturb Cecil, Carlos slowly extracted himself from the warm sheets of the bed, setting his bare feet on the plush carpet of the floor. He tiptoed quietly to the door, slipping into the hallway. He stood with his back pressed against the counter as he slowly drank the coffee, allowing the warmth to slowly bring him back to life.
As his brain waves began to return to normal functioning levels, the scientist sighed contentedly, enjoying the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the dimness of the kitchen. The Faceless Old Woman had brewed this batch just as Carlos Album) it: black, with a slight oaky tone to it, with just a hint of a sweet aftertaste.
Once he had downed the cup and went back for half another, he made sure that there was still enough left in the pot for Cecil and deposited the mug in the sink, making sure to run water into it so that his radio host could use it later.
Quietly, he padded his way back down the hall and into the bathroom, where he retrieved his gym shorts and old Caltech t-shirt from where Cecil had neatly folded them on top of the hamper, next to his clothes for the day. He pulled the shorts over his boxers and peeled off the shirt he had slept in, replacing it with the Caltech one.
He carefully laid his glasses down on the counter and made his way back into the living room, where he found his socks and old tennis shoes where he had left them by the door. He pulled them on and laced them up before very quietly opening the door. The chilled desert air struck his face as Carlos stepped outside of the apartment building into the early morning atmosphere. He loved Night Vale in the early morning, just before the sun came up. All was well. Carlos jogged his way through town, enjoying the placid environment as it welcomed the first rays of sunlight like fingers reaching for the cookie jar at the edge of the cupboard.
He ran past the Dog Park, shuddering as he gave it a sideward glance. As curious as he was to study the scientific properties of it, Carlos had never gotten around to doing so. Cecil refused to speak of it off-air, and quite frankly, Carlos found it slightly creepy.
He suppressed the scientific tingling at the back of his brain and sped up just a bit, grateful to leave the looming obsidian walls of the Dog Park behind him. He had left emergency numbers and a series of lists on the corkboard in the corner detailing his instructions for his teammates while he was gone for the next nine days, as well as the total inventory list of supplies that was set to be delivered by the end of the week. He smirked lightly as he passed his hand over the smooth counter, and he felt tiny sparks of anticipation bloom in the pit of his stomach like butterflies hatching from their cocoons.
Nine days. As much as he had grown to love the odd little town he now called home, it would be nice to experience normalcy again. He knew his brother and sister were excited to finally meet the eccentric radio host he had called his boyfriend for a little over six months now, and he knew that his parents were at least curious, his mother demanding photos and Skype calls that he never got around to sending. He had been anxiously counting down the hours to the day Cecil met his family since their first date, and finally, that day had arrived.
While Carlos had no doubt in his mind that his family would love his boyfriend as much as he did, even his father, he was, however, nervous about introducing Cecil to his grandmother. His Abuela was a loving, but stern lady, and very devout in her Catholic beliefs. While he had come out to his parents and siblings about his sexuality at sixteen, he had never quite gotten around to revealing the fact to Abuela; the timing had never seemed quite right.
A scientist is self-reliant, he reminded himself dryly. What truly made him uncomfortable, however, was the fact that he had not bridged the topic of this to Cecil. Carlos had always kept his sexuality under wraps, never allowing himself to reveal more than he felt necessary, but his boyfriend had never been as reclusive, even going so far as to speak of his unending love for him on the radio whenever the opportunity arose.
He knew his father tolerated it, but he also knew that he preferred not to acknowledge it, if at all possible, even going so far, over the phone when the Carlos first pitched the idea of Cecil coming to him, as to suggest that he and Cecil sleep in different rooms. In high school, shortly after coming out, Carlos had found himself the butt end of many a joke, in particular from those of more athletic status than himself, and had once almost been shoved into a locker had his older brother Andre not stepped in.
He swallowed the memory like a bitter pill. Even if he had to grit his teeth and bear it, he would get through this. Carlos ridded himself of his sweaty shirt and shorts almost immediately, stepping into the shower and turning it on full blast. The water which held a slight green tint to it and smelled faintly of candle wax was a blessed relief has he scrubbed away the thin layer of sweat and grime that had settled on his dark skin perfect, Cecil called it from his run.
He shuddered at the mere thought of the smell of burnt hair; it had taken his lab partner in college weeks to rid himself of the odor. Finally clean, he climbed out of the shower, setting his feet on the moss bathmat and drying himself off as best as possible. He grabbed the clean pair of boxers from atop his folded clothes and slipped them on before he tugged his clean undershirt over his head. He located his glasses where he had left them and put them on before he attempted to survey himself in the foggy mirror.
As he made his way back into the bedroom to retrieve a clean pair of socks from his suitcase, he found Cecil sprawled across the bed on his stomach, still sleeping soundly, his face buried in a pillow. Carlos shook his head, smiling slightly. His boyfriend often tried to convince others that Carlos was the bedhog, when in reality, Cecil was far from innocent. Carlos shook his head. Cecil groaned again, and remained firmly cemented to the sheets of the bed. Cecil yelped and his body jerked away from Carlos, and he fell, unceremoniously, onto the floor in a tangle of blankets and limbs.
His bleary violet eyes were wide in surprise. Carlos kissed his cheek as he turned and walked towards the door. Thought you might want to know. Cecil's moss bathmat actually exists! You can find it here! Carlos and Cecil prepare for their trip, the Faceless Old Woman steals the whipped cream, and Cecil's parka is a probably radioactive.
See the end of the chapter for more notes. The rest of the morning had gone smoothly enough: Carlos had cooked waffles, four of which had become stuck to the ceiling the Faceless Old Woman seemed to be pleased with his gift of thanksand six of which had been consumed between Carlos and Cecil, complete with syrup and banana slices. Cecil had tried to find whipped cream to top it with, but no sooner had he pulled it from the refrigerator did it, too, become stuck to the ceiling.
Hell hath no fury like a Faceless Old Woman scorned, my dear Carlos. Hell hath no fury. He and Cecil quickly finished their breakfast, Cecil gulping down another cup of coffee before he rushed to take a shower while Carlos cleaned up. The weather in Night Vale stayed fairly consistent no matter the time of year, but upstate New York was a different story.
Sure enough, Cecil had made sure to pack a myriad of sweaters, and Carlos recognized several of the button down dress shirts Cecil usually wore to work. Satisfied, Carlos grabbed the handles and began the trek to his car outside, where he promptly loaded the bags into the trunk.
As he did so, his phone buzzed in his back pocket, and he pulled it out to find a text message waiting for him. Carmen: We got a good six inches of snow over the weekend, and the weather guy just said we can expect more this week. Carlos rolled his eyes, but sent his sister a reply of thanks anyway before re-pocketing the phone and heading back into the apartment building. As he walked into the bedroom, he found Cecil half dressed, his button down shirt — purple pinstripes, Carlos noted — laid out neatly on the bed.
I keep a stock under my desk. Thank you, Dana! After a few more moments, Cecil nodded his head. See you in nine days! Carlos nodded. Carlos blinked and tried to ignore the coat as it practically glowed, but he found that its image had been burned to the back of his eyelids. He shook his head. He forewent the tie he usually wore, opting instead for a purple knitted scarf with the NVCR logo on one end. He slipped his purple glasses onto his nose and grinned as he stepped closer to his boyfriend.
Cecil grabbed his shoulder bag from the bed and folded his obnoxiously colored coat over his arm. He gave Carlos a quick kiss as he passed him out the door. Life outside Night Vale was suddenly very close, and so was the halting reality at just how different the world was beyond the city limits. Carlos shrugged. Carlos laughed. Cecil shook his head. It might…put them off, just a little.
Among other things, if your father is taken into consideration, he reminded himself bitterly. Cecil poked at one of the tattoos, and it slapped at his finger indignantly. Carlos chuckled, and brushed his knuckles across the tattoos one last time before he retracted his hand back to the steering wheel.
Cecil returned to hooking up his iPod into the adaptor stuck into the cassette player. The song blasted to life as soon as Cecil attached it to the jack, and he quickly silenced it, blushing furiously as he glanced at Carlos, who chuckled.
She used to turn that one up especially load whenever she knew I was trying to study, especially when I was studying for chemistry. They were on their way, and for the first time in a while, Carlos was beginning to feel a bit excited. In case you're wondering, yes, the chapter titles are spoofs of Christmas Living For The Love Light In Your Eyes - Donovan - Golden Hits (Cassette. The lyrics used in this chapter are from S Club 7's "Natural.
The airport hosts a myriad of wonders, including security checks, x-ray machines, and homophobic assholes. Sounds about right. This chapter quickly became one of my favorites to write, and also one of the most challenging things I have ever written. I myself am not gay, and I found some of the emotions here a bit hard to write, points hard to drive home, but I have several friends who were able to help me get my descriptions and emotions correct, and I must applaud in their bravery, and their willingness to share their stories with me.
Thank you!!!!!! Going on, I enjoyed writing this chapter. It was a challenge, and I like a challenge. I also loved the fluffiness that ensued here.
While Cecil had never been one that Carlos would describe as necessarily quiet, the silence that had fallen between them shortly after leaving the parameters of Night Vale behind them had been comfortable, contented, and Carlos had found that he rather enjoyed the companionable feeling it gave him as he dared glances at Album) boyfriend from the corner of his eyes.
They entered the airport and headed to the check in counter. She inspected them carefully and typed the information into the computer. Carlos suppressed a chuckle as he shook his head. If only this girl knew where he and Cecil were coming from! Rylee had him lift both of the bags onto the scale, and she tagged them and set them on the conveyor belt.
She handed Carlos his tickets. Carlos smiled at him, but the fingers laced with his were like fire on frostbite as he dared glances out of the corner of his eyes at the people walking past them. He swallowed as he saw one middle aged couple eyeing them suspiciously, as though they were holding pipe bombs. He would have given into the judgmental stares, cracked under the pressure like a test tube being trod upon, or a beaker being cooled too quickly after being removed from a flame.
He refused to allow complete strangers to force him to feel ashamed. Carlos caught it, and gave him a small grin back in reply, stuffing the tickets into his jacket pocket. Finally, they neared the conveyor belts.
It had been years since Cecil had even left Night Vale, let alone flown; in fact, he was fairly certain that his trip to Europe — if it could even be considered Europe; all of the countries Cecil had mentioned were not ones that Carlos had ever seen on any map before — was the first and only time Cecil had ever flown, and surely that was well over a decade before, at least.
He cocked an eyebrow. Cecil shushed him. Cecil nodded, and watched as Carlos was beckoned forward through the metal detectors into a chamber-like cylinder, where he raised his hands above his head and stood still after handing the man on the other side of the chamber his metal framed glasses. The walls of the chamber rotated around him, and he was allowed to exit to the other side. Cecil watched, fascinated, as he waited patiently for his turn.
After a few seconds, he was asked to step into the cylinder. He handed his watch — the one true time piece in all of Night Vale — to the security guard on the other side of the chamber, a bit anxious at the prospect of parting with it, even if he knew that it was in safe hands. Cecil slipped the plastic frames from his nose and handed them to her. A faint beep later, and Cecil was told he could exit. The security officer handed him back his watch and glasses, which he gratefully placed back on his face, allowing the world to swim back into complete focus.
I was stuck in security for over three hours once while trying to get from LA to North Carolina for a conference. Brush my teeth. Cecil ignored him. He scanned the area in front of them and pointed to the black sign that hung from the ceiling ahead. Do you want to stop and get a bagel and coffee first? He waved his hand. Cecil smiled, his purple eyes soft and warm, and he shook his head. Out the corner of his eye, Carlos saw an elderly woman about the same age as his abuela staring, her eyes narrowed in obvious disgust.
He swallowed the lump at the back of his throat. His conscious chided. Cecil remained contentedly pressed against his chest for a few seconds more, and Carlos felt his ears begin to burn as a group of teenage boys walked past, sniggering loudly and pointing. His friends guffawed. Get a room! These boys were nothing but attention seeking, juvenile, and crude.
He would not allow them the satisfaction of knowing he had managed to get under his skin. Go fuck each other somewhere else! This is a public place! Ignore them. He turned and began to tug Cecil in the other direction when something flew past their heads, narrowly missing clipping Carlos on the cheek as it did so.
It fell to the floor in front of them with a clatter, and Carlos realized it was an empty Mountain Dew can. Carlos felt the anger — and, admittedly, humiliation — boiling deep in the pit of his stomach, and he bit his tongue as he and Cecil walked down the hall towards their terminal, leaving the boys behind them.
Let them stare. He thought bitterly. Finally, they reached the terminal, and Carlos immediately honed in on the seats nearest the big bay window, which offered them the chance to not only see the planes as they came and went down the runway, but they were also the seats farthest away from the small crowd of people that were gathered in the waiting area.
Cecil chewed his lip as he watched his boyfriend seethe. Very different. Cecil nodded. After a moment, he looked back at Cecil. Am I right? Cecil nodded, slowly. Carlos struggled for the right words. Growing up surrounded by homophobic dogma and stereotypes and intolerance on top of the racial prejudices as wellCarlos had become used to the fact that the world did not, as a whole, accept who he was and what he felt, and there were times when he felt that it never would, and he had learned, over time, to accept this fact.
In Night Vale, the relationship he and Cecil had was normal. Of all the things that occurred in the most scientifically interesting city in the world, the fact that they were two gay men in love and in an open relationship was the most normal. And, if he were completely honest with himself, that was the concept that he had had the hardest time wrapping his mind around.
Even the polar resonances and earthquakes that defied all Album) and Dog Park that denied all logic were small and explainable compared to the acceptance of his sexuality. I can explain the difference between valence and core electrons, tell you the atomic mass of any of the elements on the periodic table from memory. I can tell you how to conduct an experiment to withdraw all the information needed to construct a complete molecular model.
I can tell you proper lab procedures, I can tell you how to gather data and write an analysis, how to apply for a grant.
He had encountered many things in his thirty-two years. Many things. He had seen so much, said so much, heard so much. He had Album) been told he was wrong for being attracted to other men, no matter how few others like him there were in Night Vale. And why? For what? Because he was romantically interesting in men instead of women?
Why was this such an issue? What made it inexcusable? What made it wrong? What made Carlos wrong? Cecil was unsure what he was supposed to say. Cecil was a Night Valean, after all, and Night Valeans were born survivors. We talk frequently enough, you know that. He…he is. And your siblings? Andre and Carmen never had an issue with it. I was their brother, same as always. Nothing ever really changed there.
He always expected me and my brother to grow up to be men, to play sports in high school and get married and have kids and carry on the family line. And when I decided I wanted to join the marching band and debate teams and mess around with chemistry sets in my room instead of throw around a football, it was like…his plan was becoming a little skewed.
He still loved me, Cecil, and I know he was proud when I got a scholarship to Caltech and everything. He told me that I was ruining my future, because not only was I already a member of a minority, but now I was a sub-minority as well. He screamed at me that I was committing a sin against God and that I would never truly be as happy with another man as I could be with a woman.
And he never really apologized for it, either. He just…sort of swept it under the rug, and we never talked about it again. Carried on like it had never happened. He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. They still had ten minutes before their plane would board.
We never told her. In Night Vale, if there is one thing that we understand and appreciate, it is to live each moment as if it Album) your last, because who knows?
It very well could be. It made him feel safe, protected. What a sad view to have of such a beautiful life. And he meant it. The speakers overhead dinged, and a tinny female voice informed them in both English and Spanish that their flight was about to board. The two men stood to their feet, gathering their things quickly as they did so, and Carlos laced their fingers together as they neared the reception desk to check their tickets.
You know that. If anything seems off, please feel free to let me know! I'd appreciate the input. I am currently cocooned in a cozy down comforter in my quiet living room whilst a winter storm rages outside, which is providing copious amounts of inspiration, especially considering something I've had planned from the beginning that is yet to come.
Also, did you know that writing about bagels really makes you crave them? Good thing there's a Tim Horton's here in town As it turned out, flying and floating were two very distinctive things. And in the end, Cecil got airsick. Carlos soothingly rubbed Cecil's back as the line of their fellow passengers began to slowly file down the aisle towards the front of the plane.
Cecil was curled into a small ball, his long legs drawn as close to his body as the narrow seat would allow, his hideously colored parka wrapped around him like a blanket. His cheek was pressed firmly against the scratchy upholstery of the seat, his eyes closed tightly.
Carlos had removed his glasses and tucked them safely into the protective case he carried in his laptop bag, and had slipped the airsickness bag under the seat so that it was out of the way, and wouldn't get trampled as everyone stumbled past. Cecil moaned, piteously, and Carlos felt his heart break a little bit. He felt bad for the radio host, and he felt even worse that there was little more he could do for him than continue to rub gentle circles into his back and wait for everyone else to exit the plane so they could get Cecil back onto solid ground.
He hadn't even thought to pack Dramamine; he hadn't gotten motion sickness in years, since he was a kid, and he certainly hadn't expected Cecil — the most adaptable to changes in altitude alterations and shifts in equilibrium of the two of them — to get sick, either.
Cecil groaned in reply, refusing to move from his current position any further than he had to, lest he be sick once more. His stomach was still in knots, his intestines on fire, and he could still taste the acrid bile at the back of his throat, despite the water and ginger ale Carlos had been making him drink. The flight had been nearly four and a half hours long, nonstop, and Cecil was certain that it had taken any longer, he would most certainly have died of not only embarrassment, but complete and utter boredom if the airsickness didn't get him first, which he was certain it would before either of those things could be considered.
The few moments of sleep he had managed to catch during the duration of the flight had been fleeting, shallow, and unsatisfying at making the time — and the nausea — go away. Carlos — sweet, gentle, caring Carlos — had tried to keep him as comfortable as possible, even going so far as to place Cecil's headphones over his ears so that the soothing tones of Disparition and other ambient sounds could flood past his eardrums and into his throbbing brain. It helped, just a little.
Good thing I advised against the airline food. Carlos thought, trying to make the situation as light as possible as he eyed the last few passengers as they shook hands with the pilot before finally making their exit. The kind flight attendant that had made sure to keep them well supplied with paper bags and bottles of water smiled as he neared them, a white biohazard bag in his hands.
Liam, if Carlos was correct, was his name. The nametag confirmed his suspicions. Carlos nodded, and bent down to retrieve the puke bag from beneath the seat in front of him, glad to be rid of its presence as he dropped it into the bag. With Cecil as sick as he'd been, Carlos hadn't dared leave his side, even for a momentary trip to the bathroom when the seatbelt signs had been turned off.
He gathered his and Cecil's belongings before he bent down and gently shook Cecil's shoulder. His boyfriend moaned at the jarring. We can get off now. The sooner we get off the plane, the sooner we can find a convenience store and get you some motion sickness meds, then maybe something in your stomach. By Artist. By Album. Listen online. Year: Views. Style: FolkFolk Rock. Notify me of new comments via email. Cancel Report. Create a new account. Log In. Powered by CITE.
Track 03 - Enterorrhagia - Autoamputation Subject (CDr, Album), I Miss Her Every Way - Frankie Miller (2) - Blackland Farmer - Complete Starday Recordings (CD), Les Beatles* - 1965 (Vinyl), Im Lonely - Scooter - Jumping All Over The World (CD, Album), MC Serch - Back To The Grill (Vinyl), Everybody (Not Your Mothers Mix) - Xenon (12) - Defying Gravity (CD), Disillusion, Mr. Jack - System Of A Down - Steal This Album! (CD, Album), Hollywood Boulevard - Tina Arena - 7 Vies (CD, Album), Josef K - Its Kinda Funny / Final Request (Vinyl), Kosmet - As Pawokaz - As Pawokaz (CD, Album), Foma - Lukid - Foma (File, MP3, Album), Symphony No. 4 In G Major - Mahler*, The London Philharmonic Orchestra, Jascha Horenstein - Symphony