<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:33:57.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Escaping through Music</title><subtitle type='html'>lyrics that i like and were in the mood to post.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-109436050676271075</id><published>2004-09-04T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-09-04T22:01:46.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>just have to get off my chesti'm sad b/c the hot guy who was training me at work had his last day today (he's transfering to another location) so i won't really see him again and he was one of the few ppl that i really felt comfortable with b/c i just started and he was really nice,  so now i kinda feel alone at work.  and then i'm kinda confused, b/c i thought i liked this one friend of mine.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/109436050676271075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/109436050676271075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109436050676271075' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-108744402361934348</id><published>2004-06-16T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-16T20:47:03.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>no one ever reads this, so i guess i'll type shit.  i feel so out of the loop sometimes.  not getting called, or not knowing what's going on at all.  puts me in a bad mood.  sometimes i feel so unwanted.  i know there's a few ppl that want me around from the ppl that i always hang out with. but i know that other ppl could care less.  it makes me sad. because, i kinda feel like that ppl that you </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/108744402361934348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/108744402361934348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2004_06_01_archive.html#108744402361934348' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-107784524077819008</id><published>2004-02-26T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-26T17:30:11.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Sunday Bloody Sunday" U2Yes...I can't believe the news todayOh, I can't close my eyes And make it go awayHow long...How long must we sing this songHow long, how long...'cause tonight...we can be as oneTonight...Broken bottles under children's feetBodies strewn across the dead end streetBut I won't heed the battle callIt puts my back upPuts my back up against the wallSunday, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/107784524077819008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/107784524077819008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107784524077819008' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-107436859876282719</id><published>2004-01-17T11:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-17T11:45:14.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are callingFrom glen to glen, and down the mountain sideThe summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.But come ye back when summer's in the meadowOr when the valley's hushed and white with snow'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadowOh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.And if you come, when all the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/107436859876282719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/107436859876282719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107436859876282719' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-107436769636908056</id><published>2004-01-17T11:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-17T11:30:12.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"I'm Writing One Great Song Before I ... One Song Glory One Song Before I Go Glory One Song To Leave Behind Find One Song One Last Refrain Glory From The Pretty Boy Front Man Who Wasted Opportunity One Song He Had The World At His Feet Glory In The Eyes Of A Young Girl A Young Girl Find Glory Beyond The Cheap Colored Lights One Song Before The Sun Sets Glory - On Another </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/107436769636908056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/107436769636908056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107436769636908056' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-107379680191618770</id><published>2004-01-10T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T20:55:33.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>David-Bowie's  - Rebel Rebel Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo dooDoo doo doo-doo doo doo doo dooDoo doo doo-doo doo doo doo dooYou’ve got your mother in a whirlShe’s not sure if you’re a boy or a girlHey babe, your hair’s alrightHey babe, let’s go out tonightYou like me, and I like it allWe like dancing and we look divineYou love bands when they’re playing hardYou want more and you want </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/107379680191618770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/107379680191618770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107379680191618770' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-106947889501382122</id><published>2003-11-21T21:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-21T21:28:22.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>bartenderBy: Dave Matthews Band If I go before I'm oldOh brother of mine please don't forget me if I goBartender please, fill my glass for meWith the wine you gave Jesus that set him free, after three days in the groundOh and if I die before my timeOh sweet sister of mine please don't regret me if I goBartender please, fill my glass for meWith the wine you gave Jesus that set him free</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106947889501382122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106947889501382122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106947889501382122' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-106947702776289022</id><published>2003-11-21T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-21T20:57:14.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>grace is goneBy: Dave Matthews Band Neon shines through smoky eyes tonight It's 2 am - I'm drunk again it's heavy on my mindI could never love again so much as I love youWhere you end where I begin is like a river going throughTake my eyes take my heart I need them no moreIf never again they fall upon the one I so adore Excuse me please one more drinkCould make it strong cause I don't</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106947702776289022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106947702776289022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106947702776289022' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-106896332378896416</id><published>2003-11-15T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-15T22:15:29.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>this pops into my head every once in a while. i like it*Bad Day*~R.E.M.A public service announcement followed me home the other day,I paid it nevermind, go away.Shit's so thick you could stir it with a stick,free Teflon whitewashed presidency.We're sick of being jerked around,Wear that on your sleeveBroadcast me a joyful noise into the times, Lord,count your blessings,We're sick of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106896332378896416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106896332378896416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106896332378896416' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-106896202253365750</id><published>2003-11-15T21:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-15T21:53:47.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>heard this on the radio yesterday*Better Man*~Pearl Jamwaitin', watchin' the clock, it's four o'clock, it's got to stoptell him, take no more, she practices her speechas he opens the door, she rolls over...pretends to sleep as he looks her overshe lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man...she dreams in color, she dreams in red, can't find a better man...can't find </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106896202253365750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106896202253365750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106896202253365750' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071138.post-106867706044077479</id><published>2003-11-12T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-15T13:13:16.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>this are dedicated to chelsea, cuz i've been listening to a lot of mathcbox 20 and if it wasn't for her, i would never laugh so hard during this song*Hand Me Down* ~Matchbox 20~Someday they’ll find your small town world on a big town avenueGonna make you like the way they talk when they’re talking to youGonna make you break out of the shell cause they tell you toGonna make you like the way</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106867706044077479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6071138/posts/default/106867706044077479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://escapingthroughmusic.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106867706044077479' title=''/><author><name>Hunter Riley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00566595759543088694</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
