Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Merrie Land, artist - The Good, The Bad & The Queen. Album song Merrie Land, in the genre Инди
Date of issue: 15.11.2018
Record label: Studio 13
Song language: English
Merrie Land |
If you’re leaving please still say goodbye |
And if you are leaving can you leave me my silver jubilee mug |
My old flag |
My dark woods |
My sunrise |
If you’re leaving can you please say goodbye |
And if you are leaving can you leave your number |
I’ll pack my case |
And get in a cab |
And wave you goodbye |
I drive in the early hours down to the sea |
I stand on the beach where the storms amplify |
All the voices that I care for |
And the ghosts I hold sacred |
In this alignment that lasts for a day |
There’s nothing that I can do anyway, anyway |
What am I doing here? |
Waiting for you? |
Hey |
So rebuild the railways |
Firm up all the roads |
No one is leaving |
Now this is your home |
The horses, the foxes, the sheep, and the cows |
Bow down on their knees |
To the fanfare of progress, it’s always the same |
We cheer on the clowns as they roll into town |
But their faces look tired and sad to me |
And carry the terrible things they’ve seen |
All lost in a painting of a sky coloured oil |
In this Merrie Land |
You are my crows, my window rattlers |
Perfumed valley criers |
Oh the dark ponds of Merrie England |
The deep space echoes |
Get on your mo… |
What did you say? |
Mobility (You can fly) |
Get on your mobilised hooters… (to the moon) |
Hooters… Haha |
Mobilised Hooters… Haha |
(One day) |
Get hold of those mobilised hooters |
They are half price |
This is not rhetoric |
It comes from my heart |
I love this country |
Daneland, I am your kin |
You were the ones who work together |
Put the money in the pockets |
Of the few and their fortunes |
Who crowd the school benches |
And jeer at us all because they don’t care about us |
They are graceless and you shouldn’t be with them |
Because they are all disconnected and raised up in mansions |
And two hundred plastic bags in a whale’s stomach |
So you turn to the trident |
Are we green are we pleasant? |
We are not either of those Father |
We are a shaking wreck where nothing grows |
Lost in the sky coloured oils of Merrie Land |