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grace 101

A little song inspired by the lovely Joanna Newsom and some of Michael Stipe’s more obscure moments…

Tell me which colour is blue –
Then stand in a line and shout “Idiot, yours truly”
Nothing compares to this feeling of flying
And gravity wants to join in for the ride.

I don’t know which one is true –
The fool and the knave they both have intuitions
But foolproof plans which require ten volumes
To explain the subtleties just don’t sound right.

I will determine the last day on earth
And I will determine what Winston was saying
So I can make way for the peach and the pear and the plum
And you cannot fault what I’ve done.

The concrete must yield to the steel
And some sun could reach me despite of the morning.
Patio living with no remote features
Could be a solution but think of the mice!

I will dig deeper than others will dare
And I will dig deeper regardless of warning
and I will make way for the peach and the pear and the plum
And you cannot fault what I’ve done…

no, no, no, no
no, no, no, no
no.

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montreal

Let’s take a trip down Somerset Island,
Across the mainland to Hudson Bay.
We’ll take a boat across the water
Down to Montreal.

Taking our time we’ll cross the border
And be in New York for christmas day.
We’ll meet the friends we made in Philadelphia
In Florida sometime in May.

I’d escape across the sea,
If you would come with me to Montreal.
I would run away
If I thought it possible at all.

Let’s take a boat from Norway
Sail north across the Barents Sea.
We’ll spend some time in Anderma
And take a train across Russia.

I would gather sweat and dust,
If that is what I must do to get away.
I wouldn’t care of others views,
Lets wear out all our shoes in vain.

Let’s drink tea in China,
Let’s drink coffee by the Arabian Sea,
Let’s go walking in the water
But only up to our knees.

So I’m sitting in my room,
Pencil in my hand,
Drawing lines on the wall,
On my map of the world.
I couldn’t be in Rio by tomorrow
Even though its an inch from my nose.

Looks like it’s Brighton or Moorgate for us.
Call in sick on tuesday.
I’d be happy walking on the beach alone,
You’ve got money, could go anywhere at all.

I would sail across the sea
If you would come with me to Montreal.
I would run away if I thought it possible at all.

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i love leonard cohen

What’s in that box? What’s hiding in here?
Pictures from Bedford, taken half a blue moon ago.
My we were young then, all mix-tapes and alcopops,
Bum bags, shell suits and meatloaf cds.

Did I really dress like that and dance to that tune?
Then stumble home drunk by the light of the moon.
Guess times they change and the change times they guess,
And nonsense can still be a welcome relief.

My Weezer cd’s well they hardly get played,
My obsession with Ani Difranco has faded,
You might ask is anything sacred these days,
And I’d probably tell you that I love Leonard Cohen.

A snail carries with him some slime and a shell,
I have ten boxes plus cartons as well
As these books, bags and a case
My grandfather used in the war.

Did I really write those words
And did she write back?
Stray hands in Row G all through that James Bond film.
Nonsense it still has a welcoming ring,
And heroes they never don’t come easy.

Chorus