1. |
Chlorine
05:13
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LYRICS
My feet barely scrape the tiled floor of the swimming pool,
as I float in liquid fields of aquamarine.
Water humming, as I try to submerge the one’s before.
Blue eyes towards the ceiling, fluorescent clean.
In the silent space beneath the waves,
I luxuriate in a place of my creation.
Only for me.
Wipe away everything they thought they saw in me.
Chlorine.
Wipe away anything I thought I saw in me.
Chlorine.
Now I recognise that the man before was a simple fool,
who believed a stranger's love would make him complete.
As I break the surface, holding on to my semblance of truth,
I see that my own soul’s the one I need.
In the silent space beneath the waves,
I luxuriate in a place of pure elation.
Only for me
Wipe away everything they thought they saw in me.
Chlorine.
Wipe away anything I thought I saw in me.
Chlorine
I’ll be right here until I am a new man.
I’ll be right here.
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2. |
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LYRICS:
Jeremy’s at the Brighton Station piano,
playing Christmas songs and wishing for snow
for the revellers
and the travellers heading for home.
So I stand and I watch him play,
waiting for the 7:30 train,
broken and tired with a long way to go.
And if you’re lonely at night,
you'll find Jeremy at the upright piano at Brighton Station.
Jeremy’s at the Brighton Station piano,
playing nocturnes he thinks I should know,
telling stories
of how he couch surfs around the coast.
As I listen to what he has to say,
says I reaffirmed his faith,
that I know more about him than they’ll ever know.
And if you’re lonely at night,
you'll find Jeremy at the upright piano at Brighton Station.
And if your life’s lacking some light,
go see Jeremy at the upright piano at Brighton Station.
Jeremy’s at the Brighton Station piano,
playing compositions of his own
at my request,
my behest,
before the journey back home.
In those last minutes as I watch him play,
I try to find the words to say
that he knows more about me than they’ll ever know
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3. |
Racing Horses
04:20
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LYRICS:
So many stories you held close to hand,
of a childhood on Irish soil, of working the land.
Catching rabbits for you to eat and talk of old currency,
in time we weren't born to see.
And my mind returns to all those summer days,
staying at your house, misunderstanding a mumbled phrase.
Two pounds from the kitchen jar, bus rides into town and our
picking names of racing horses.
I hope they're racing horses for you.
Willow, green willow,
as your branches hang low,
you seem to be sighing for the sadness, I know.
I'll love her forever, until the day that I die,
until the green willow looks up to the sky.
We grew older, but our love for you stayed much the same,
a little less time, but we treasured the days
you had the whisky poured as we were through the door, betting on your racing horses,
I missed the chance to ask you more.
It hasn't been long since I helped carry you to rest,
through an ocean of faces of the ones who loved you best.
White lilies on a wooden sky, a bidding prayer and a tear in eye,
and hearing you sing one last time.
Willow, green willow,
as your branches hang low,
you seem to be sighing for the sadness, I know.
I'll love her forever, until the day that I die,
until the green willow looks up to the sky.
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