Background to the Songs

 

Tracks featured :

1. Garden
In the garden, there are little flowers
In the garden, in the rain.
They're called forget-me-nots
(Their little plea)
And I share a little something with them,
In their worry, that they'll be left alone

In the parklands, there are little birds
In the parklands, where I walk
They remind me of a little something:
Their freedom to fly
Though they fly alone

I wondered once
Where the people go
To find their peace
Then I found a garden
And I sat with my sorrow
Then I took it for a walk
I found my fears were hollow.


 

2. Spades


I said I like you
Because I mean it so
I spoke the truth
I called a spade a spade
Bit if you don't then tell me
How does your garden grow?
Well I've got bluebells,
And I've got cockle shells
And I've got pretty maids
All in a row.
Now that's a metaphor,
So what I said before
Counts for zero.
Alright OK
I called our love a flower
The pretty prose
and metaphors are back
But I said I like you cause I like you
and that is that
All spades aside
Well with these spades
I'm digging myself into a hole
A terrible grave
Oh won't you come with me
You know I said I like you
I could have said
you tore my heart out
The queen of hearts would have
told you she adored you
But swords and darts they sorted her
A consortium aborted her
And heart got broke,
but with these spades
I'll make this garden grow

3. Oceania Interuptus


 

4. Boat Song

When we talk about us
We sound like children
But we both know it
So its ok
And we laugh about us
Just like children
Aren't we stupid
Is what we say
We're two children
Sitting on the edge of the earth
Feet dangling in the nothingness
Where there's no hope for rebirth
And we look out
Into the abyss
And we laugh in its face
And we kiss

We slow waltz through our lives
To the death march
We keep dancing
Where others fall
But when we're tired of the dance dear
We'll let it end
I'll sing my own song
You cry your call
We will battle
We'll be demons
We'll be fighting
But there'll be freedom
We'll climb big hills alone
Go through big storms alone
We will try to do right
And end up doing wrong
but til then...
We slow waltz through our lives
To the death march
We keep dancing
Where others fall
But when we're tired of the dance dear
We'll let it end
I'll sing my own song
You cry your call
We will battle
We'll be demons
We'll be fighting
But there'll be freedom
We'll climb big hills alone
Go through big storms alone
We will try to do right
And end up doing wrong
but til then...

5. Hooks

Hey,
I've fashioned you some hooks
And attatched them to some string
To put in the corners of your mouth
To help you find your grin
I'll gently tug the strings
Press your eyes open
pat your cheeks to make them rosy
Gently push you from your cosy
Hole that you hide in
to a world that will love you
To a world to a world that will love you

Hey,
I've tailored you a vest,
It's not quite like the rest,
We'll button it up tight
To keep your heart inside your chest
Cause you keep throwing it away
Say you don't need it anyway
But believe me when I say
It's better if it stays

What you do not know
Is when you shake off all the snow,
You omit a little glow that makes me smile
But so often it's winter
So often you're cold
So I only see this glow once in a while

Hey,
I've made some shoes that fit your feet
They're ugly and indescreet
You'll hate to look at them
So you'll look instead up to the street
To see places you haven't been
And things you haven't seen
Oh get o your way

Oh there you are very far
But oh so close to me, oh my I wish that sky
Would clear up for you, can not know the lengths I'd go
To wipe away that winter for you
Scare away those hassling clouds
Lay out a carpet of spring flowers before your feet.

 

6. Cottonfields

Well I'd say you must have been born in a cotton field,
to adoring parents in love.And the stars blinked their blessings
And the moon did too as they trotted cross the sky above
And the whole wide world sang her impossible song
And the sun danced on the waves for you
And the saddest thing, the great tragedy is that you'll never know
When you left your home, your mama cried, every night
on her pillow for you. And your papa prayed on every star
that your friends' intentions were true
And the turning sun kept her eye on you and the wind
blew good luck your way And the saddest thing, the great tragedy
is that you'll never know
And you're a little uncertain, A little unsure
Like the shell on the waves who dreams of the shore,
But the fragrant skies have their birds with their eyes
And the moon helps the tides to keep you safe from harm
And though you may tumble and feel the sting of the cold
Or feel you are slipping away from it all
You must not fear it for you are still loved
The birds have their eyes and they watch from above
We will wait for you,
To make it through the storms of your own questions
Well you found yourself as a young adult
with the sun shining on your skin
But you wanted to know more, so you called up the storms
That ripped up pieces of the world you're in.
With it all in the air you can work out what's there
But it gets too much and you find you're lost-
Just look to the horizon, you'll soon set your eyes on a beacon-
you'll find us
There are lines of bouquets waiting to line
your choice of pathways And there are lions in their dens
But the people you know are willing to keep them at bay
And you'll never know
Let the orange light in the cottonfields
remind you that it'll be alright
I hope the warm glow of the setting sun,
eases you into the night
And if in the dark you lose your way,
if the monsters give you a fright-we'll be here
in the morning dear after you've faced the storms
and I promise it'll be alright

7. Bird Wizdom

I've packed my suitcase and I'm walking
Down the street
Don't know where I'll end up
Just following my feet
And if I ever see your face again...
Then I'll just have to walk faster.
Go to the station and I hop on the first train
One that goes somewhere, where nobody
Knows my name
And if your ghost catches me up to haunt me
Then I'll just have to go further.

See I found some alarming articles
That contradict and convalute
Codes and conventions that I thought were absolute
You told me in your gospel tongue
Towering principles and what I should become
And as time goes past I see you
Might have been wrong...

I FOUND YOUR JUDGEMENT ON THE FLOOR
AND I FED IT TO THE BIRDS
FED IT TO THE BIRDS AND THEY WERE SICK
I THINK YOUR JUDGEMENT
MIGHT HAVE BEEN OFF.

Lights speed past the train window
Soothing flashes in the night
Snag thoughts from the depths of my mind
And drag them into sight
But when thoughts of you bubble into view
I feel sick, so I look back to my own reflection

I see two shining eyes looking curiously upon a world
But I also see creases on a brow of a wounded little girl
And so i need to get away from you to rediscover my direction.

You see I found some alarming articles that contradict and convalute
Codes and conventions that I thought were absolute
You told me in your gospel tongue towering principles
And what i should become and as time goes by
I see you might have been wrong...

I FOUND YOUR JUDGEMENT ON THE FLOOR
AND I FED IT TO THE BIRDS
FED IT TO THE BIRDS AND THEY WERE SICK
I THINK YOUR JUDGEMENT
MIGHT HAVE BEEN OFF

I found your lies scattered in the garden so I offered them to the birds
I offered- but they didnt swallow them at all
I swallowed them all to show them how and I feel a little silly now,
They've flown away while I'm stuck here on the ground.
I found your ego as well- gotta tell you that wasn't hard
It was the size of a light aircraft and it was parked in the backyard
The birds flew off in disgust at this giant ugly thing
And I'm gonna do the same-
I hope it makes your ego shrink.

Yep, I fed your judgement to the birds.

 

8. Fledgeling thoughts


I've forgotten my poor little mind. Beaten it down with meaningless tasks and repetition. Sitcoms and alcohol, too much caffeine, sleepless nights.Heart's taken over and she's started playing tricks. Rattled my poor little frame til it's just a pile of sticks. Puddle of drowsy bones- I'm raving, I'm raving. I still remember what it's like to be in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth. I vaguely recall the good old days when I still made some kind of sense. That's why you've got to look after the machine, or it fails- and you're stuck on the side of the road. I've been running on empty for miles so I need to stop- before I break down. There are some fledgeling thoughts flapping helplessly round the engine of my mind- but the unoiled cogs rip off their wings and they're lost before they exist and I am blind. Human emotions rise up amongst it and monsters battle pharaohs. They're beastly and brilliant and they tear me apart so roll down the curtain sent the audience home. We can't afford to reimburse them, as there's nothing in the bank. We can't even be diplomatic as there's no one to blame or thank...That's why you've got to look after the machine, or it fails- and you're stuck on the side of the road. I've been running on empty for miles so I need to stop- before I break down.


9. Roses

There are roses, on the inside
you can't see them because they hide-
But you can see the scars from where they tried to get out,
And she holds them tight and she waits.
There are diasies in her hair.
They're attracting killer bees but she doesn't care
She holds her head up high, fixes them with her steady gaze
And they drop from the sky, but her composure stays.
If she folds up her dreams and bottles her wishes,
She might preserve faith in false ambition
But her pickling roses will turn her sour
If she doesn't face her fears and let them out.
She stalks in her heels through the city-
Treads carefully on cobblestones.
She walks with speed so her thoughts don't catch up,
And she worries herself sick til she's just skin and bones.
Her skin is marked with rose tattoos-
Printed reminders of what she could choose,
But they contain not the colour of what's bottled up-
And from the inside out the thorns make cuts.
She could pretend it's not driving her mad.
The impulse is to let her creativity parade,
But she won't let it out and the roses are rotting
And bubbles are forming just like lemonade...
She's got a gift
But She's let herself doubt
Though it tears at the seams
She won't let it out


 

10. 1000 bees


I'd take on a thousand bees just to get some honey for your wounds,
But I fear all the honey in the whole wide world wouldn't keep you from coming unstuck. I'd pull out the heartstrings from my very own chest just to tie up the pieces of your broken dreams-
But the pieces they would crumble
From the bitterness of yours truly
I'd rather the strings were plucked to sound the cheery tunes of life
It would take a thousand years to cure you
That's a thousand years I haven't got
If I ever have a thousand years up my sleeve
Then you can rest assured I'll be in touch
So with what we know of the human condition, which involves a lifespan of about eighty years- you will see that it is impossible for me to be your saviour. So im sorry, I'm sorry you're on youre own. It would appear that I'm nine hundred and twenty years short of the answer

Then with a thousand bee stings on my arms and a slightly less functional heart, I would rroll back my shoulders and I'd stand up before you and I'd ask if there was anything I could do. With those innocent loving eyes you would
Stare straight through me and you'd say wait in the pouring rain I'll be with you shortly, so I'd stand bedraggled and waiting wide-eyed Staring at the falling skies
And I'd tell myself I'm not waiting any longer
And the sad thing is that I would
I would oh I would. I would wait for hours days, I'd wait weeks, I'd wait months, I'd wait years till you came for me...
It would take a thousand years to cure you-that's a thousand years I haven't got-all I have to offer is a mere eighty five or so but believe me theyre all yours,
Should you ask.


11. Graveyard


I appeared into a forest
Where the trees were gnarled and tall
And they laughed at my appearance
So I said this is not my world at all.

I turned and ran from their cruelty
But I was scared so I got lost
Their phantom limbs
Scratched me at every turn
There was no one I could trust.

I burst into the open
Wounded and confused
Perhaps I'm a tree after all
But I was just bad at it so I got abused.

There was a hollowness inside of me
A gaping damn collecting tears
So I wandered to a graveyard
To confront some of my fears.

The slabs of old stone were comforting,
The sombre setting calmed my nerves
There I sat and sifted through my thoughts
Cutting out sore ones with secateurs

One day I saw a coloured scarf
Dance around the bend
I followed it to find colour more
And a girl to call my friend.

She took me to a funfair carnival
And I squealed with utter delight
All the funfair characters loved my squeal
So they helped me to take flight.

I love the carnival
I need its colours in my life
But there's a place
Away from all the city lights
Where sometimes I spend the night
In the graveyard...

Well I'll never go to that forest again
As there's nothing for me there
But sometimes I go beck to that graveyard
To take a break from the funfair

I love the carnival
I need its colours in my life
But there's a place
Away from all the city lights
Where sometimes I spend the night
In the graveyard



 

12. It Could Be

that I'm disgusting. I find it hard to tell. But maybe you are just like me, which would be just as well because I like you! I like you quite a lot. You constantly amaze me in all the things you do- because you're constantly amazing- in ways that are brand new, and maybe one day I'll amaze you too, but I might not. That's why I'm glad I haven't met you yet. Which makes me nervous so I forget the things that I know mixed with things that I don't. I thought that I met you, now I think that I wont. And when I do, I hope my nerves go away! And even though you've never been her and will probably never come- I hope you stay. It could be that I am boring, I find it hard to tell. If you find that I am boring, please keep it to yourself 'cause it'd upset me it'd upset me quite a lot. I could write you a letter but I wouldn't know what to say, and it would cost me 50c to send and I don't want to pay so I'll write one to myself: "Dear Anya, you're quite boring." Well thanks a lot that's going in the bin. Just like this song, is probably going in the bin.
-The Endangered species

 


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