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Jeff Saphin - Asong: About, Abook... lyrics
Sad another day He just needs a place to play Just a boredom rider In a motorcycle gang. Like to read his antique books And every place he looks Is a strange reminder Of the page behind his, hand... “With you blue ice And your diplomats In a hallway filled with Siamese Cats As we patiently Watch time collapse Ah, let’s just catch a nap And dream of that... There’s a parcel hanging on the door Wrapped in parchment Scented with Dior And the cat scratch droppings On the floor Are piled in the bowl Of your hat...” And his helmet made of skin And the head space that he’s in And his blackstrap leather Cracked by arid winds of time He's a bullet in the bed Of the temporary ever sleeping Dead But a permanent stain On the sheets of his own head... “These are weeds And those are grassy fields. Stick your hands up ‘Cause their too concealed. Now we’re under Some abnormal sky Airbrushed for our eyes So tenderly. Sit you down now In your breakfast chair At the window With the freshest air The view so beautiful That you just stare Oh beautiful despair! Your coffee cries...” He puts the Book down for a while, Calls his wife in and lights his pipe The scent is cherry apple and the hall is sunset bright... So the Book it sits and waits In it’s self-fullfilling state Shelf above the table By the coffee breakfast chair So it sits there waiting patiently In it’s limited infinity For it’s own arrival And it’s precedence in time... |
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