Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Samurai Cowboy , by - Kurt Elling. Song from the album The Gate, in the genre Release date: 31.12.2010
Record label: Concord
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Samurai Cowboy , by - Kurt Elling. Song from the album The Gate, in the genre Samurai Cowboy |
| You dig /everything in life / everything you’ve seen |
| Everywhere you’ve been / you have been thinking all of the time |
| Everything that’s happened to you / has been made or construed to brood |
| At least passively in the life of the mind |
| You dig / memory is such / nothing gets away |
| Everything you touch / finds a place / deep inside your inner clutch |
| And it seems gigantical scenes / pouring in from your outer dreams |
| Wrinkle mental stuff in your own skully hutch |
| And once you think it / naught you can do to stop / you’ve simply got to cop |
| Nevertheless the thought can really wig you |
| Like sometimes I’ll / go for a run / there’s nothing I expect to run to |
| When all of the sudden the thought begins / a feeling like in my brain there |
| lives an alien / And it gets funky then |
| Then I think / maybe I am just a little man in a space capsule |
| Riding 'round in a balloon / deep down inside my head |
| (Some big old giant’s head — dig?) |
| I’m driving the running / the motion sequence of running and pushing and |
| Pumping the oxygen deep in the plumbing / sumping on to some-way |
| Some-how keep on moving the giant / keeping him pliant |
| Right now an arch-typical synap-tically of light / a firing anatomical hit |
| Is right now getting down / dig? |
| Shooting a rapid-fire sparkle-chemical in the atmosphere, here |
| & thinking that I’m thinking of thinking / only makes me think a kink |
| In a way / that only goes to cite that Descartes was right! |
| You dig /everything in life / everything you’ve seen |
| Everywhere you’ve been / you have been thinking all of the time |
| Everything that’s happened to you / has been made or construed to brood |
| At least passively in the life of the mind |
| You dig / memory is such / nothing gets away |
| Everything you touch / finds a place / deep inside your inner clutch |
| And it seems gigantical scenes / pouring in from your outer dreams |
| Wrinkle mental stuff in your own skully hutch |
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