1. |
Playing Cards
02:52
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Creeping out the parliament with poems about love
you're making the transition like a champion
Moving to the country just to see what happens/
see if we can meet another wave of shelf-stock friends
If I could be bold
I'd have a job hosting the millionaires who come here for the sun
We lived on that beach for a couple of weeks,
now we tread cautiously in case we're still drifting/sleeping
Playing cards like Polaroids, comparing memories
you're making accusations like you're one of them -
Buried under snowdrifts or dressed in dinner suits and ties
we sell ourselves another pack of lies
If I had more faith, I'd be afraid that we were wasting all this precious time you saved
If we stood just here for a couple of days, we'd be talking cheap, I'd be wondering where your old heart lives now you're drifting
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2. |
Done Deal
03:54
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little heart, stone cold faith
real life got in the way
trumpets sound on the wrong day - I want the fanfare
just when I'm ready
so we write out a lie and carve it into stone
a little piece of something I can call mine
now we turn off the lights to talk about it
and you leave me drowning in my own words
all I know is I'm left behind
when that call comes down the wire
I could not see what you saw
but could I seek the same God?
I'm caught behind a door with you on the other side
I couldn't make this right if I tried to
so I'll keep the page folded, hope I don't lose my place
and my feelings blow away in some cold breeze
but we didn't cut our losses
and we didn't walk away
we didn't hold our tongues and wait for things to change
in a house made out of matchsticks
who's gonna watch it fall apart?
we didn't cut our losses
and we didn't walk away
we didn't keep our promises or wait for things to change
in that house made out of matchsticks
who's gonna watch it fall down?
it's a done deal now
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3. |
Home #2
02:43
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Between the white pages of a book that you once read, you found yourself sleeping and missing out on everything. So jumped the gates and rode the rails on a journey to the North. Got as far as feeling cold, and burning down those bridges that you'd built.
We once spoke of poetry and the beauty that you found in simple things, and coffee cups you'd stare into for hours. Now you look for something I could never even see; searching for the bigger world while I'm still on the ground.
Home is a call away, when all that you did was make a few mistakes. Home is a call away, when all that you've done is learn from your mistakes.
Creeping doubt left to climb was the answer to your fears.
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4. |
Could You Just
03:47
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careful with those words,
they could run away from you
some of us don't forget so easily - we speak when we're spoken to
and careful with that look
it's cut through all my oldest defences
I'm starting to think that this will turn out the way that they said it would
but could you just smile - even just half?
it's taken all my courage just to come over
drinking to the last drop
drinking to believe that there's more than you see
talking like you've been lost, but
you're as close to home as you'll ever be
breathing some real life
mix it with something you had up your sleeve
finding these fault lines between the kind of people you meet
and the people that you'd like to find
is it so hard? it's taken all my courage just to come over
then I started holding my breath
I started counting my steps
traced myself back to the world I was in
before I was out of my depth
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5. |
Thomas & The Good Book
03:48
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I've found no other way to you in all of my quiet days
I'd fold myself away, but my back won't carry me
I've been building this house since I was a little child
I was building this house when I was a little child
My father would listen to the shipping on Four and tell me what the seas would bring that day
and "fenders spread like wings, we scattered light through half Astoria"*
I miss my God.
The way it wrapped itself around each lie I spoke,
and now I've let my father down.
We built, but we built this fire too high
and now, I'm clean out of mountains to climb
(* - taken from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald)
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Hey, Sleeper England, UK
we learn patience from the dead
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