Lead me to the truth and I Will follow you with my whole life

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Lead me to the truth and I Will follow you with my whole life

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Mumford & Sons, Fiddler’s Green Amphitheater, Denver, CO.
“I really wish you would not cry….”
Nora and I got ticketssssssss to Londonnn!!!!!!!!!
Let another countdown begin! So happy <3
If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy I could have won.
Mumford & Sons I Gave You All

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So crawl on my belly til the sun goes down I'll never wear your broken crown I can take the road and I can fuck it all away But in this twilight our choices seal our fate
"All the Pretty Girls" by Kaleo
MG:
I won't pretend or insist this is anything other than a fine substitute for a For Emma b-side. Justin Vernon's, perhaps disingenuous, rustic persona and penchant for floating his falsetto over Kanye West records is enough to put off more than a few former fans, but I still appreciate one aspect of that debut. More reliably than anything else, it forces me to cry. There's nothing specifically sad about the album, at least no more so than any emotionally charged break up album, but in the way those mournful acoustic notes bend, in the vulnerable vocals, in the way certain words are refrained like jagged sobs -- I can't stop myself from tearing up, even if I'm standing on a crowded train. I was taken by surprise one morning when "All the Pretty Girls" popped up in a playlist of new music. Believe me when I say, this is indistinguishable from early Bon Iver and I was immediately swept up in hollow, artificial sadness. Despite its only tenuous ties to anything I'm genuinely ready to let out, Kaleo spurred that release.
DV:
As someone who has blocked all knowledge of any solo Bon Iver from my memory, I can't speak to MG's comparison. "All the Pretty Girls" just sounds like "ho hey" folk with the actual "ho hey" removed: the structure, the instrumentation, the lyric remind me of any number of Mumfords. Lovelorn, but not so much that they can't manage a rousing shout-along chorus. Delicate, nice guys, able to manage a plaintive falsetto and a throaty plea, but not to evoke anything more genuine than that bro in sandals who used to cover Jack Johnson and John Mayer in the dorm's common room.