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2. |
baker street station
02:47
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Oxford may be cold this time of year
and though they say the island's grey,
I'll take my hat, you take your scarf,
we'll take the railway
City searching, big lady with the keys,
'the attic rooms are small' she's say
but London's big, we're finally here,
we'll take them anyway
and next stop it's the Baker Street Station,
let the streets continue clockwise with our past,
mind your step, it's the Baker Street Station,
this might be where the music is the best
and hats off, it's the Baker Street Station,
the Baker Street Station at last,
and hats off, the rehearsal waiting's over now
to each man what each man can collect
flatmate find your room, your smoking chair
your walls of writing bold and bare,
find a pen, we'll catch the inkling
who hid up in the wall somewhere
and hats off, it's the Baker Street Station,
the Baker Street Station at last,
and hats off, the rehearsal waiting's over now
to each man what each man can collect
and cheers now, it's the Baker Street Station,
you've raised your glass as high as it can get
peace now, we've found our place in all these lines
finally read, our denouement, our place of rest
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3. |
earl grey lavender
02:43
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4. |
name
04:16
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those kings playing chess on their fuzzy green stools
something mnemonic left over from the old school
and the places we grew up
all travel back on mysteriously powerful wings
taxonomy or poetry, the order of some words
that you learned once in class
and your past life comes back
on the wings of a song
oh oh oh oh oh oh oooh
oh oh oh oooh
once I saw a picture of a human brain and it looked like
it looked like a map to me, dear
it looked like tilled fields from the air
and those shapes got me thinking,
maybe the mind has these migratory patterns
pathways planted so deeply they've led me out here
and mom would let us stay home sick
from school once in a while
'cause every little brain just needs
a chance to laugh and smile and dream some days
she'd say
following my instincts
has made my wings beat so long
that I'm tired for a song
just beating my wings
sometimes I think
that these migratory patterns
as innate as they may be
are the strangest part of me
strategies and harmonies
and airborne daydreams fly
and it's okay to feel a little homesick
sometimes
flying solo above the weather
my attitude indicator is parallel with the fields
my altimeter and my airspeed wheels,
it's just my instruments and me
as my loan body flapped,
looking down from strange heights
with all these kingdoms beneath me
I didn't just find a species,
I found a name
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6. |
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7. |
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8. |
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9. |
Sixth Borough
02:40
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