Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Canadian Geese, artist - Sun Kil Moon. Album song Lunch in thePark, in the genre Инди
Date of issue: 23.02.2021
Record label: Caldo Verde
Song language: English
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 |