if you're a bird i'm a birdy

it's not often that you come across a teenage feat that's worth cyber-boasting about. we typically leave the teenagers to blame juvenile delinquency on; I mean it's not us and it's not the infants so someone must be fueling the drug industry. right? we put them in their categories of stupidity and wait for the next young pop star to prove our own points right. which they always do. but then when you come across someone who isn't Rebecca Black-esque it becomes this amazing day that should be marked its own holiday. it's almost better than the day you were born; hearing new things and sensing new things and being out from the womb of autotune. for me, it came in the form of a semi-frazzled mane of hair and a 15-year old spirit. she had arms corsaged in lace and fingers that painted the black-and-white keys. her name was birdy, which is both classy and juvenile in the best possible senses. she gave me reason to thank the youtube gods -- which, let me tell you, does not happen often in my life -- and revived my faith in the vocal cords of the younger of my generation. she's yet another reason to lust on british singers, and kind of reminds us all of a younger, smaller version of adele. damn those brits.

look into my eyes and tell me that all we had were lies