tuesday tunes {Hozier}

Will was travelling for work all of last week but it was bearable this time because by sheer coincidence, the day he left I downloaded an album that caused me to cheat on him.  Majorly. Blissfully. All week long.  What? Cheat on Will? But he's sooo wonderful AND taking your ass on a cruise!  I can hear your indignation at this fact already, but yes. I have mentally and repeatedly cheated on my husband, with another man.  His name is Andrew Hozier-Byrne and he holds my very naked soul in his bare hand this week.

Surely by now everyone's heard Take Me To Church, which is undoubtedly terrific.  I've loved it as much as any other and have manipulated its meaning to soothe my own pain for a time. Yet, truthfully, it's one of the worst songs on the album.  Aside from  Angel of Small Death and the Cocaine Scene, which I just can't get into, the rest of the melodic and lyrical combinations on this holy grail of an album are liquid sex.  Nope, not exaggerating.  The clarity of Hozier's deep, reverberating voice, combined with those chilling choral echoes and deep guitar strums, hang suspended in the thickness of silence long after the song is done, literally stirring the slumbering parasites within:

Didn't that give you goosebumps? It's insane the extent to which music can move you and this album is a perfect example. Hozier's voice and the raw blatancy of emotion conveyed within it, turn my insides to goo. Every girl's dream to have a guy sing these kinds of songs about her - or perhaps simply to meet a guy capable of feeling and expressing himself this way... and it doesn't hurt that he's a total babe either.  Ladies, honestly, if your sex life is somewhat stagnant at present (or your husband is on the road ;) ) do yourselves a favour and download this album!!  You'll want the bonus track version because Run is the musical orgasm you've been waiting for all your life.

Some of Hozier's lyrics guaranteed to emote:

i'm all but washed in the tide of her breathing

screaming the name of a foreigner's god, the purest expression of grief.

darling don't you join in, you're supposed to drag me away from it

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth.  no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

a rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree

never feel too good in crowds, with folks around, when they're playing
the anthems of rape culture loud, crude and proud, creatures baying
all I've ever done is hide from our times when you're near me
honey, when you kill the lights, and kiss my eyes, i feel like a person for a moment of my life.  but you don't know what hell you put me through.  to have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you. to feel your weight in arms I'd never use.  it's the God that heroin prays to

run until you feel your lungs bleeding

babe there's something so wholesome about you, get closer to me