Work Song - Tumblr Posts
Me, ignorant, having only ever heard take me to church; Geez what is up the the hozier fandom???
Me, later, after listening to work song; *instanly transported to old woodland in a time long ago* oh.
Hozier is the definition of love and devotion.
Crawling home from your grave to be with her once more?
Wanting to fuel the pyre of her enemies?
Swimming a lake of FIRE to be with her?
Walking endlessly just for a chance to know her?
Be willing to walk the floor of any sea for her?
And the entirety of Work Song and Francesca both.
Not to mention the way he describes women.
Everything about this man's songs is poetry.
Hozier: Exist
Me:
The Dream.
Passing out somewhere, wounded and bleeding and alone in this world.
Waking up somewhere, comfortable and tended to. Waking up with no past, except for the healing wounds. Waking up somewhere where it is warm and safe, and where there is someone who wishes to look after you. Someone who looks at you and doesn’t see where you have been or what you have done, but only who you are now. And they see someone they can love.
Waking up every day to this place that had once been new but is now familiar and home. Waking up every day to a person, hardworking, honest and full of love. Looking in the mirror and seeing someone who is now just that, too; hardworking, honest and full of love. And living a perfect, peaceful life with a person who is like the morning sunrise; bringing warmth and life into your world.
...
But no one is without a past, and you cannot hide from yours forever. Sooner or later, it will always catch up with you. And the important question is: Will you still have what you gained when it does?
work song
HE. TOUCHED. MY. HAND.
Reiner is a yearner I'm sorry I don't make the rules, Work Song is for him! he aches for forgiveness but can never give it to himself!
Me explaining how Widojest is literally so Hozier coded like. Name one song that doesn’t fit at least one of them. I’ll wait. (Don’t actually do that I’m sure there is one but I’m insane so just let me live my little delusional life 😔)
SOLACE
i seek solace in her arms
when the days have all come to an end
and the nights settle around us
so tired my body barely feels alive
but i don't close my eyes
not wanting to spend another moment
without her by my side
and when my head reaches its final resting place
nestled in the hollow of her throat
i know in my heart
that no grave can hold my body down
i'll always crawl home to her
-RGB
Hozier songs interpreted as vintage post cards
Twitter | Prints
hozier really did sing “if the lord won’t forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me.” and “i’d slither here from eden just to sit outside your door.” and maybe that’s just my general disdain for religion but imagine being loved so much that your partner would go against literal GOD and say that your love is more important than God. just. holy shit.
Hozier .9
When my time comes around
Lay me gently in the cold earth
No grave can hold my body down
I'll crawl home to her
-Hozier "Work Song"
I swear this man gets more prettier every freaking day!! Like holy heck!
work song — a.h.b.
a/n: full disclosure, i've posted this before on tumblr for something else. but i love this piece very much and i think it fits for him and this song so well 🤍 (it's gone under quite a few edits too, though)
cw: mentions of death but of well that's a given
the artist flicks through the feature.
her name is printed in big letters on the cover of the monthly issue, her face—smiling and excited—next to the centrepiece of her latest art collection: cupid and psyche.
the painting is stunning, a riot of bold colours and patterns, but at the centre is a man, his face hidden, his red-brown curls tousled. his body is relaxed, she thinks there's an air of carefreeness about him.
and she'd know that for sure, after all that day is etched into her memory.
when she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she smiles.
“you're rather proud of the feature, aren't you?” his voice holds a little teasing note. she's stared at the feature for close to thirty minutes now, discreetly pinching herself in the same spot on her arm. (it sports a tiny, barely-there bruise now)
“good,” he nuzzles his face into her neck, softly kissing the skin, “you should be. the exhibit was fucking gorgeous.”
“mmm, because you were the centrepiece?” fondly, she teases back, but the memory flashes in front of her eyes—the bustling art gallery, him in a corner, wearing a plain hoodie and jeans and a cap hiding half of his face, absolutely brimming with pride.
she remembers the journalists asking about the man in all the paintings, the one whose face no one can see. “he's my muse,” she says every time, “this collection is dedicated to him.”
“someone's going to connect the dots,” he walks around her, settling himself next to her on the settee. instantly, they rearrange themselves into a tangle—her legs on his lap, his arm around her, her head on his shoulders, his head on hers. “if they looked carefully, they'll make the connection.”
“sweet boy, we have been each other's muse for years now and no one's found out. i don't think they're going to start now. besides,” she snorts, “i think the art world thinks i've made you up in my mind. won’t be the first time an artist's gone insane.”
he laughs a hearty laugh. “maybe you have. you always say i'm too good to be true.”
when she can't think of a retort, she sticks her tongue out, shrieking away as he smothers her in kisses.
“seriously though, it's fun writing about you. singing about you. and i love seeing myself through your eyes.” suddenly he sounds all sober and serious. she thinks his voice even wavers slightly at the end. he blinks quickly though, and just like that the brightness in his eyes is gone.
“love it when you write about me too,” she teases, “love being told i give you a toothache just from kissing you.”
“oi! i put my heart into that! it's a precious memory for me.”
“the memory of me taking care of you when you were burning up a fever? the memory of you demanding more kisses?”
he giggles like a teenager, hiding his face in her hair. it's fun to rile him up like this, so she continues, poking him in the ribs. “oh, oh, is it the memory of you passing the flu to me?”
“we took care of each other though!” he traps both her hands in his so she won’t be able to poke him more. a second passes, and he can’t resist kissing the knuckles. “and so you deserve to have a song written about you. or a whole album works too i think.”
he pauses for a little then tuts. “actually, no. don't wanna tell anyone it's about you, that'll ruin the magic.”
“ruin the magic?”
“of being your muse and having you as mine. a hundred years from now, when people would see your art as the artwork of this generation, and my music as the tune of our times—”
“tune of our times...”
“yeah, quit laughing at me!” he flicks her nose, kissing it right after. “so when my music becomes the tune of our times, i think people will see it then. they will make the connections.”
secretly, she loves the idea—that their love might transcend time and space, heaven and hell through their art. that decades from now their names might be whispered together, even though they aren’t just yet.
“of course, we'll be buried together by then. same grave by the way, very romeo and juliet of us.”
“that's morbid!” she laughs sharply, “what will the epitaph say?”
he hums for a bit, thinking. his eyes flutter shut for a second or two, almost like he needs to focus on the half formed thought until it's a complete sentence. then he excitedly clears his throat and gently holds her face between his hands.
“here lie the artist and the muse; inspiring each other in death as they did in life.”
Shrugs. Thought you* might be interested in this little snippet from last Sunday.
*waving to any and all lurking Hozier fans.
BTW has anyone done the statistics on how many fanfics contain hozier lyrics?
*drops a uquiz like a dead mouse at your doorstep*
“no grave can hold my body down / i’ll crawl home to her”
IS THIS NOT ODYSSEUS AND PENELOPE
there's two types people:
those who absolutely love hozier in a way only his songs can explain or
those who are like "oh the guy who sang that gay church song"
i wish i could get in a room of the first type of people and scream "no grave can hold my body down, I'd crawl home to her" at the top of my lungs
I know not many people are gonna interact with this and I honestly just need to yap about the book I just finished
(⚠️DIVINE RIVAL SPOILERS ⚠️)
AGH OH MY FUCKING GOD.
I’d just like to point out how perfect work song by hozier is to describe them
(depending on your perspective of the song)
“No grave will hold my body down”
“I’ll crawl home to her”
He literally fucking busted his stitches about AGAIN running to save her and when he physically couldn’t stand anymore he crawled in an attempt to save her. Are you kidding me? Wtf? He was inhaling a gas that literally made his lungs fill with blood and completely blur his vision but he refused to stop crawling towards her. Dude. I need the second one now.