1. |
Making Shapes
05:14
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Couldn’t think straight
Waiting for your call
Got this idea
That we could …
You’re just a bit late
It means nothing at all
You’re a good one kid
You’re great
Couldn’t speak straight
Feeling two feet tall
Oh so near
But not enough
You choose your own fate
Looks like you chose to fall
You’re a good one kid
You’re great
In the meantime
You roll your eyes and twist your hair
I couldn’t stop you
From making shapes, denying that you care
If you could go back
Into the winter, so warm and yet so cold
Would it be different?
Will my need for your touch ever become old?
The beasts have broken through the net and
I can’t think of any simple way of
Making sure that they
Don’t come and take us over
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2. |
The Transmitter
02:38
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Lives like litter
Blowing about in the wind
Fire up the transmitter
Send a word of goodwill
To make the people feel better
To make them glow with our charm
Because I might need some numbers here to back me up
And you’re not all that strong
Despite the size of your arms
Hear the hope that glistens in their voices
Watch the movement as they make the trip to kiss the ground
Where once crawled the most decorated of public liars
Would you mind? Hold my drink a second don’t move a muscle
I saw a face I’d like to question, over by the pulpit
There’s not much liquid in the glass, but I’ll be back to fetch it
And we can pick the bones
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3. |
Goodbye Brainstem
04:03
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The keyholes offer up a light that’s finite
By the time it’s gone you might have learnt to read
I’ve got an itch to scratch that never stops so I might
Get them to take away my skin, and my thoughts and let me bleed
You were the sole in favour of reflection time while the rest of us were living
The keyholes represent what’s left of innocence
By the time it’s gone you won’t know how to smile
Momentarily, get the chance to see, but in a sense
Got so used to counting nothing that something just isn’t my style
The sole in favour of reflection time while the rest of us were living
Detach my brainstem
Control my scheming
Get out my heaven
It’s all I’ve got left
The brail walls have got a life of their own
Our fingertips can but try
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4. |
Rumours
03:42
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I’ll write a bestselling story
From all the secrets I know
I hear you’re not supposed to tell them?
That doesn’t bother me
Interrupts you while you’re talking
With some ideas of his own
He’d like to be the inspiration
For your lack of confidence
We know all about your temperature
And how you take off your clothes
A case of too much information
No longer startles me
Heard you’ve been reading up on science
Between DeLillo and Rose
And if you need an explanation
Don’t think of asking me
Drink Islay like moonshine
Have a shouting match with the sky
Oh we are destined for better things than this atmosphere
Paint over the little white scratches to make the cut unscathed
Or let there be rumours now
It’s a shame I’m not an astronaut
Take everybody to space
To try and capture their attention
With more than snow and lights
And if you need to you can drive my car
It ain’t an auto, it shifts
And, no, that’s not a Beatles reference
Although you think it is
Drink Islay like moonshine
Have a shouting match with the sky
Oh we are destined for better things than this atmosphere
Paint over the little white scratches to make the cut unscathed
Or let there be rumours now
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