Lyrics My Hurricane - The Blue Aeroplanes

My Hurricane

My hurricane is here, humming through phone wires
And humour, near tears maybe but part of life
You hurricane will be God’s signature
Signing organdy fields and foliage in squares of organised history
Calm light and bitter winds.
These hills have seen more blood
That this.
The landscape is littered with peace
And surrounded by roads.
Smoketree on the horizon
Your hurricane is for the dispossessed and the names of saints
Mine is the heart to heart and the pulse that races
This is a dark song
And no mistake
Take this gun and shoot
This is a tv
And this is a street
And the man who loves you is lost
Clean and neat, where the water meets the shore
Old buildings are propping up the sky
Heading out to sea, what a lot of boats!
The wind stinging the eyes, drink stinging the throat
She’s dressed for the bedroom on a clifftop in autumn
Staring unfocused at overcast skies
Let’s go and point a mountain, eat comme chez soi
And burn the soul cats from their homes
This is a folk song
And no mistake
Take my gun and shoot
This is a tv
And this is your room
And the man who loves you is you
The writing in the sky shows we’re not at home
Advertising music, it shows we’re not alone
Its characters look like faces, local commercial
Priapic and car crash, dollyrich.
You’re right to be scared
Your lover’s left
Your friends are right
And nothing is what you hold
But getting old
And killing things
Is the natural order of the world
And let me tell you something else dear
This is not your country
You just live here
Back home, there are boy racers heading for the bridge
The tracks of tyres and the smoke from fires, guns in the hold
Marks of past volcanoes and wars, trees and churches
Broken by history and surrounded by new towns.
Also
A preview of coming attractions, nakedness uncovered
Unreasonable suspicion.
Look out your rear window and update!
Little girl prove a masculine point, pretty little cockatoo
Should smash his jaw.
My hurricane does not exempt me
Remember that green, that’s the green of the green man
The colour of the world that knew Saracen
Before Iraq and Iran
There were the heathen and the Christian gentlemen
Your hurricane does not exempt you, but mine can
Fires into the sea like mouths, fires under the water
There are lupins growing on ash, there graphs like fir trees
Nursery plants for a new forestry on Mt St Helens.
Let’s go
New lands with better order may have better parties
Sorry, caller, we’re out celebrating a successful
Border crossing.
Signed under fire