Lyrics Canadian Geese - Sun Kil Moon

Canadian Geese

Swimmin' in the American River today
There you are on the bank sunbathing
What a beautiful picture your bathing suit and shades
Oh you’re a princess how did I ever get so lucky
Canadian Geese I like watching them flow
And watching the old timers across the river panning for gold
Oh the water’s so cold yet refreshing
Ain’t nothin' like swimmin' in a river it’s so decompressing
I’m a songwriter I’m a songwriter I am through and through
And I’ll be writing songs about you 'til I’m dead and blue
And you know I’ve lived a life and that there’s been others too
But nothin' compares to my life with you
Nothing compares to making love to you
Nothing compares to delicious cookin'
Nothing compares to how good I feel
When layin' next to watchin' TV and cuddlin'
Nothing compares with your kindness and patience
Nothing compares to your fragrance, your radiance
Since I was 15 I’ve carried an affliction
Since I was 15 I’ve lived with a condition
And I’m workin' on it workin' on it, I’m workin' on it hard baby
I got friends in my corner advising and helpin' me
The first time I ever looked at you
I’ve thought, though I’m flawed, you’re the one for me
And I’m the one for you
Was an eventful day I caught a lunker
I threw it back in the river it was a big orange carp clunker
And now you’re in bed you’re readin' a book by Edward Bunker
Next to the framed photo of my old cat Thumper
And I’m reading by John Fante’s Full of Life
He admits he’s nothing without Joyce his beloved wife
Wouldn’t matter if I rolled around in a Rolls Royce
Don’t matter how many custom built Les Pauls I own
Don’t matter how strong my voice
Don’t matter if I got a Golden Gate view
Don’t none of it mean nothin' without you
This year has found me so down and full of gloom
But feeling full of gloom for me ain’t nothin' new
I’ve been carrying it around since I was in my mother’s womb
In fact there’s probably still a residue of gloom
Under the many coats of paint in my childhood bedroom
But I’m trying to drop this bag of gloom
Though I’ll probably carry it around to some extent to my tomb
Call it gloom call it glum I’ve carried some depression
Self-induced, maybe, I don’t know
Maybe it’s genetic
Sometimes I lay in bed 'til one or two
In the afternoon
Dreaming I’m onstage entertaining
Then I wake and think that my god that felt great
Then I’m hit with the pain, that for now, being on stage is no musician’s fate
But my life is still quite dream
Bouncing back and forth between The Sierras and San Francisco and New Orleans
With you my Queen
And from this day forward I’ll strive to be your King
And here we are in Mid-October and before we know it the years' gonna be over.
But damn, the Roma tomatoes that we planted are still producing,
and tall as little trees
I’ll never forget our beautiful spring and summer days this year,
driving around old mountain towns, taking photos of old payphones,
and planting mint, parsley and basil in the garden, or driving to the old
Chinese town Isleton, where we stopped along the Delta and talked to a guy
named Hugo, who told us the history of the town
Or having Italian food in Rio Vista and standing on a dock, looking out over
the water, where Humphrey the whale resided for a little while.
That was your
idea, driving there.
You’ve come up with so many ideas for us — things to do —
road trips and little getaways
You’ve sensed my restlessness with not having tour dates and you’ve been so
supportive, on days that I cried and worried about my career and felt so
purposeless.
You’re the strongest, most patient, caring, beautiful person I
know
Now, my only purpose is to keep making art and to be the best person I can be
to you, and to everybody I know.
I can’t wait to see you tonight when I’m back
from the studio, to tell you about how Full of Life ended
John Fante’s relationship with his dad is so much like mine.
My god.
My dads' gonna be 87 in November.
I can’t wait for us to visit him.
He’ll be so happy to see me, but even happier to see me there with you