Conor Oberst has been recording since the age of 13. In addition to Oberst, Bright Eyes consists of multi-instrumentalist/producer , horn player and keyboardist Nate Walcott and a rotating lineup of collaborators drawn primarily from Omaha's indie music scene, where Oberst grew up. In the past few years since the release of Lifted or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground, the fourth full-length album under the Bright Eyes moniker, the Bright Eyes tale has taken many unexpected twists and turns. Conor Oberstand his ever-changing line up of musical comrades appeared on “The Late Show with David Letterman,†“The Late Late Show with Craig Kilborn,†and were a prominent addition to the MTV2-televised 2003 Shortlist Awards. In October of 2004 he was invited to join Bruce Springsteenand R.E.M.on an arena tour of swing states in advance of the presidential election.
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Going For The Gold Lyrics
Bright Eyes
There's a voice on the phone
telling what had happened,
some kind of confusion
more like a disaster.
And it wondered how you were left unaffected,
but you had no knowledge.
No, the chemicals covered you.
So a jury was formed
as more liquor was poured.
No need for conviction,
they're not thirsting for justice.
But I slept with the lies I keep inside my head.
I found out I was guilty.
I found out I was guilty.
But I won't be around for the sentencing,
cause I'm leaving
on the next airplane.
And though I know that my actions are impossible to justify
they seem adequate to fill up my time.
But if I could talk to myself
like I was someone else,
well then maybe I could take your advice,
and I wouldn't act like such an asshole all the time.
There's a film on the wall,
makes the people look small
who are sitting beside it,
all consumed in the drama.
They must return to their lives once the hero has died.
They will drive to the office
stopping somewhere for coffee,
where the folk singers, poets and playwrites convene,
dispensing their wisdom.
Oh dear amateur orator.
They will detail their pain
In some standard refrain.
They will recite their sadness
Like it's some kind of contest.
Well, if it is, I think I am winning it,
All beaming with confidence
as I make my final lap.
The gold medal gleams
so hang it around my neck
cause I am deserving it:
the champion of idiots.
But a kid carries his walkman on that long busride
to Omaha.
I know a girl who cries when she practices violin.
Cause each note sounds so pure, it just cuts into her,
and then the melody comes pouring out her eyes.
Now to me, everything else, it just sounds like a lie