Over these green hills, blue electric light. Always in my blood, forever in my eyes. Black window space a basket made of flax. Broken mirror view, let your eyes relax.
Endless travels. Can't remember where I've been. Lying in this hammock, feeling tragic. Like the ones you hear so much about. Can't wait to tell you what I've seen.
There's a wild thing in the wool shed and it's keeping me awake at night. A devil in the closet and a feeling I'd prefer to hide. He is religion, he won't hear me when I cry for help.
It's a slow parade. Down a dusty road. We've learned to take abuse. From devils we don't know. . People who have lost all heart. Look for someone else to blame.
Niwhai, she's so fly. Making it happen. Niwhai, be my witness. Five satellites in just one night. . Niwhai, pacific sister. Her father's son. She was something precious.
He's a mood swinging man with his bag of tricks. Never know where he's at. The life of a party when he's doing his flips. A drag when he's flat on his back.
I know that it's you behind. Everything that I do. And I wouldn't try to hide. Who I am from you. . It's all me that you see. I was ready for another try.
(N. Finn). the firelight plays on me. the choir ignites behind me. the rising voice of discontent. all the guardian angels. you can bang the drum. look what we've become.
Speed through the night, my gritty eyes. So fever bright, scars on my hand. A gravel stone, I took a bite. . I kiss the road of Rarotonga. Taste some gravel.
At the shopping mall I'm surrounded by a parking lot. Walking down the aisle I was thinking about what I had lost. On a Sunday morning my hometown is feeling strange to me.
This bird has to sing. My heart has to follow. A man with no soul. Is wooden and hollow. . This gentle hum. Is just begun. This gentle hum. Make us one.
You're nothing in the eyes of the world. But you're riding up and down in the elevator still. Feeling just a little surprised. Like you discovered Englebert Humperdink or something.
Everybody wants the same thing. Everybody wants the same thing. To see another birthday. . Look at all the pretty numbers. Look at all the pretty numbers.
Talking with my brother when the lights went out. Down the hallway forty years ago. And what became much harder was so easy then. Opening up and letting go.
There's junk mail in my letterbox and all the catalogs. I can't wait to buy it, no matter what it costs. The whistle of the sniper, the crashing of the bombs.
The day has begun. And I stumble to the front. There's no real control. Of a random event. . And I will take my chances. Just anything can happen. I don't believe it's over.
News travels fast, there's an old wreck in the underpass. Wine in a glass and a well traveled bed, down the length. And breadth of the motorway, down the information highway.
I can never forget. The day we said goodbye. Holding your hands. A rainbow low in the sky. . And all the colours there. To gather you up and carry you up.
I can never forget. The day we said goodbye. Holding your hands. A rainbow low in the sky. . And all the colours there. To gather you up and carry you up.
We're all God's children. And God is a woman. But we still don't know. Who the father is. . I can't help thinking. There's a fortune riding. On the answer.