| You asked me to jump the 45 measured feet into the water
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| But I am no folly built for your lazy pleasure
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| If only it were so
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| Your hands were fairly stone cold as you placed them on my neck
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| We climbed off the train at Birnam
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| We anchored our city living to our rural past
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| High above the fields of Killiecrankie we made up rhymes and names for passing
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| polite strangers
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| You dared me out of earshot, faces beamed behind backs
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| MacGregor pulling on his lead to climb more snowed up steps
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| My winter jacket cast me out as a well dressed loon
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| Existing on the margins, exciting to be sharing Christmas with you all
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| I thought I’d see you up the Birks O’Aberfeldy, as if some common thoughts
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| would bring us together 10 years later
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| For nothing really just a look just to drink you in
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| I carry your memory like a big bag full of feathers once stuck in the back of
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| my throat but now a warming dream
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| Finally
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| I’m more concerned about keeping the neighbors cat out of my garden than who
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| you may or may not be fucking
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| And who may be dancing a jig in the middle
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| How stupid I was believing in fate and fairness and all the big questions that
|
| I could not answer so I busied myself with the flippancy of art
|
| (Instrumental Chorus)
|
| The genius is the subtlety of the waves lapping on the shore slowly taking over
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| the dry shale
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| With it’s salty tongue like a lounge singer
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| And uppity nonchalance uncaring for the land it’s reclaiming uncaring for the
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| crowds it’s drawing
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| The next day I shall walk in it’s wake
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| Discovering the bones and the pottery once a native of this shoreline paying a
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| visit to the coast hoping to be recognized by descendants of descendants and
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| taken in and loved
|
| Discovering the bones and the pottery once a native of this shoreline paying a
|
| visit to the coast hoping to be recognized by descendants of descendants and
|
| taken in and loved
|
| From Baltimore we sailed hoping to escape my temper
|
| I put you in a song wrapped you up with cotton wool
|
| I cast you as an angel battling my demons
|
| Cold bloodedly you took your opportunity
|
| A North London Hogmanay the year my faith was shattered
|
| A sunken city came alive with fireworks
|
| Eager to please I sang like a stranger and me and my Taig friends we drank you
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| under the table
|
| And the music you swore by it was nothing it was terrible
|
| Scared by the noise of your shrieking the dog chased ghosts in the kitchen
|
| He tore up newspapers and ate all the jam
|
| And the glassware you collected was smashed and lilting on the floor
|
| (Instrumental Chorus)
|
| When the saddening sweeps through me like a stubborn sea wind
|
| When I’m feeling my worst and the best news in world fails to move me
|
| I cannot bare your touch or to share a word
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| Or gossip or humor well that’s when I need you most
|
| Just to be here to be quiet and warm and free with the drink
|
| Until I forget such moments exist
|
| When the haar rolls in it’s just a question of waiting it out
|
| And that’s when the music I swear gets me through
|
| I close my eyes and everything is okay
|
| When the haar rolls in it’s just a question of waiting it out
|
| And that’s when the music I swear gets me through
|
| I close my eyes and everything’s is okay
|
| From Baltimore we sailed hoping to escape my temper
|
| I put you in a song wrapped you up with cotton wool
|
| I cast you as an angel battling my demons
|
| North London Hogmanay the year my faith was shattered |