Lyrics Concrete Pigeon - Sound of Rum

Concrete Pigeon

Pause timing, doors sliding
What if life been different?
Tongue strike back at the sky to fork lightning
The knife slides right in between shoulder blades from
Older mates who only phone to say they’re going out fighting
How difficult has life been?
Man, that’s all relatives
Like wedding dancefloors, when it’s last orders
You’ll find him strangling a pint like he’s trying to find life in
The very thing that is killing him, filling his mind’s violence
The fires in his iris are evident, delicate sediment settles
As evidence each morning in the corner of worn eyelids
And as that first ever worse bite of sunlight finds him
He turns child and tries hiding
I saw her walking past me on New Cross Road
With a face I know from mirrors
Another girl with the same demons to deliver
I got that feeling in my liver
The magnetism of the apparition
She thinks the same but she dresses different
Imprisoned in time with a glitch in her mind
Viciously sinking its teeth in her spine
Run from ourselves but there’s nowhere to hide
Come face to face beneath flickering lights
We are the same but with different lives
Always separate, always together
Once something’s begun, it is begun forever
Once something is done, it has always been done
Once something is lost, it can never be won
Run hold, gun smoke, puff puff until his lungs broke
Young joke turned hum drum old joke no hope bloke
Rolling drum between his thumb and his index finger
Lingering visions of daughter
Last time he saw her, she was a stranger sat waiting
Well now she’s sat at the station
I seen her through dirty train windows, all agitation
Wind blows cigarette smoke, she looks ready to fight
Shoulder oppressed by the weight of the
Night life flies by like a concrete pigeon, liver spotted hands
Dismissing the wishes of friends who wish him to listen
Tell him he’s pissing his life away
Like he don’t know, the chip on his shoulder won’t go
The sun shines high but he stays low like a broken yo-
«Yo!»
but she didn’t hear me, still I shouted on regardless
Aware that I was slipping out, out of reality’s dark harness
Fourth dimension surfing
Through the turbulence of turning corners
Bumping into other me’s
Walking 'round inches in front of me
Behind, beside and under he wonders how the thunder crumbles
Numbness, crunching numbers, corporate lunches
How did it ever become the sum of his parts was half his circumference?
A circle working under a cloud
Attached to the weak string of his old dreams
But now she’s haunted by could-have-been's
Flash back to the hooded teens
Kicking her life into gutters and slipping
Hidden and smothered by all her ambition
Drinking and hitting but wishes he didn’t
Fingertips gripping the hideous rhythm
The city she lives in filled her with suspicion
Gripping the letters he wishes he’d written
His mind is a prison
Night’s unforgiving
Left hand’s numb but the right won’t listen
Stifle traditions
Spite is a given
Blind lead the blind in the fight for the kingdom
Fighting for pittance
Life’s ambition, grass grows 'til you clip it dickhead
I could’ve been anything what I am’s written
In the dark I embark on a mission
I could’ve been a lot of things, I stopped to think
That’s when I dropped my drink and i spilt over the floor
I was confronted by all that before I didn’t see
There are different me’s for every possibility
Worse and better me’s, smaller and bigger me’s
But every future has a history
I could’ve been a lot of things
Forgotten where the rotten sing
Another grey face on the train
Day to day, playing for the lottery
I could’ve been a leader
Carved a path with the things I’d written
Except I mostly hate the words that leave my mouth
Straight after I spit them
Me too, she could’ve been so much more, they said
That’s when they shook their heads
They don’t know the things that I sacrificed
How I’d given my life for the raps I write
Glad with every molecule that I lived the life that I wanted to
All I could ever be is me, as it’s been and it’ll always be
I could’ve been a father raised a life to leave a mark
But I couldn’t get past my old man’s face sat there in the dark
I could’ve been a saint, the outline of a man to stencil
But they told me early on I’d never realize my potential
So now she’s kicking her life into gutters and slipping
Hidden and smothered by all her ambition
Drinking and hitting but wishes he didn’t
Fingertips gripping the hideous rhythm
The city she lives in filled her with suspicion
Gripping the letters he wishes he’d written
His mind is a prison
Night’s unforgiving
Left hand’s numb but the right won’t listen
Stifle traditions
Spite is a given
Blind lead the blind in the fight for the kingdom
Fighting for pittance
Life’s ambition, grass grows 'til you clip it dickhead