1. |
(i'm 19, it's autumn)
04:02
|
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|
i'm 19, it's autumn,
and outside a fight.
she's ripped his sleeve,
he holds her tight.
but she's flailing,
declaiming 'i gave you my life,
you son of a bitch,
i want it back.'
but she's old now,
he's drunk and
dumbstruck from the fight,
he turns to leave,
i catch her eye.
and the look that she gives me
it drowns out her screaming
to fuck off and never come back.
it says she knows
that she'll follow him.
and she does.
it's frightening to me,
now that i'm 25,
that I believed in you,
i watched you cry,
as you asked me
to hold up the sky,
and i tried,
and from that height,
I lost my head.
and as firmament crumbled,
you found me torn up,
and with your furniture
scattered around...
... just begging 'please,
take my place,
hold this weight,
for a while'.
it's a long way to fall, my love
and there's nobody watching me.
you were my witness, love,
and now i'm fading,
i feel like i'm fading.
a writer at heart,
and in her words
i thought i'd seen
her beauty
and a love that i could share.
and so i pressed against
her skin, and scratched
and kissed,
'just let me in!'
and sure enough,
I got my way.
and then there on her pages,
stock still and staring back at me,
a boy with my eyes,
and my name.
and a girl -
how she loved him,
that girl that you made.
don't fall in love with artists,
they'll only press you for your pain,
it's just a game for them.
my love was real.
and though i dream of you at night,
i know this hatred makes me wise.
my body knows.
my body knows.
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2. |
(hayfever)
03:26
|
|
||
|
i awoke this morning
to a phonecall two years late
someone wants me
but i don't go by that name anymore
and rapping at my window
there's a girl of just nineteen
a patient for the patient
i'll wait patiently for she
and when we wake
on a bright summer's day
to find ourselves on our own
i'll hear in her voice
a melody i'll
feel like i've always known
but major moves to minor
on the turning of a key
all my lovers all my lifetimes
variation on a theme
so i'll gather all who'll listen
and i'll ask them when we die
that they make of us a piano
and play us through to the next life
and when we wake
it won't be the same
and i'll find myself on my own
but in one way
our bright summer's day lives on
in the melody that i stole from your song
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3. |
(glory box)
03:47
|
|
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