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lyrics

Again, I’m scared to open my mouth - afraid of what will come out
Every song is bad poetry
With tunes to distract you from the fact it’s a transparent act
To get all the girls, to get all boys, to get all the others to like you

You say “every action is an opportunity for creativity”
And I know that you believe that
I’ve missed that lazy idealist
And now that they’ve come back, I hope I make the grade
I really hope I do that

Because every song is sad, the tap is stuck on cold
To distract you from the fact we’re stealing other people’s pain
The ones who swallow death
Hoping it will numb the feelings

Giving love to another person should be as natural as breathing
Maybe someone told you “your lungs are not enough”
And they mocked your tiny lungs, called them “little walnuts”
Maybe someone told you “your lungs are far too much”
Can you cut that breathing out, and that breathing in, and such

Sometimes I worry if I didn’t see you every day
I’d evaporate, I’m mostly water anyway, not such a big change
I’d rise up and float past the window-sill
Lifted by the heat of a roadside grill
Of a thousand scooter tailpipes
Past the tops of trees, expensive balconies
Rooftop swimming-pools, into the clouds
Down I’d come as rain, water once again
In a river, same-old, same-old
And maybe one day you’d see me again
Coming out a tap that’s stuck on cold

credits

from Year of the Bird (Volume 1), released April 8, 2019

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Pale Bird Austwick, UK

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