1. |
Imst
04:12
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Blue, the water
Outside, inside, fall silent soothe my soul
Tell, of stranger
Adventures tides are lost out in the cold
Warm marble floors and bullet holes
Adieu, inertia
We live as nomads speak these words unsold
Freedom, an illusion
Educations grand delusion lies untold
Pure shores and starry skies enfold
The light speeds and endless seasons take their hold
The black mountain silhouettes shade us in a blissful abyss
Built here to keep us hiding
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2. |
Maps
03:55
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This ancient rock I sit upon
Has worn and weathered in the sun
Shadowed only by the land it has become
There’s fog across the mountainside
Still I am shrouded in the light
There’s nothing left in all the world from which to run
I have been lost now for a little while
The air is cold and time is far behind
I have been high now for a little while
Now my eyes are open wider than they ever were before
I was stranded on a fishing boat abandoned in the storm
Solitude can leave yourself out at the door
We only live for seconds in the relativity of all
The majority of our ideals are flawed
I have been lost now for a little while
I was troubled by the silence of the night
I have been high now for a little while
Now I’m leaving all my past
I’m driving forward with the wind beside me
As masterplans fall into motion
Waves are breaking on the shoreline
Where the water meets the land
Sleeping on the outside of the windowpane
Reminds the city man
Of nature’s upper hand
The knots in the wood
Make childish issues into wars
Write tales of treasure maps I’ve drawn
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3. |
The Garden Of England
03:14
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Slow through
The city creeping south-east
Beyond the breakdown
Of old love on cold ground
Please teach us how to be
For we know not
We’re underfed
On self indulgent thoughts
Taking her
Her sweet time
She makes sure we are all but ruined
Just enough to speak
White patchwork patterns line
The fields of England
We cannot help but lose ourselves
Out of sight is out of mind
Storm blew
Our footsteps under locked doors
That fold into warm arms
Profound words my sweetheart
Still photographs of scenes
We misunderstood
So delicate
Existentialist reborn
Taking her
Her sweet time
She makes sure we are all but ruined
Just enough to speak
White patchwork patterns line
The fields of England
We cannot help but lose ourselves
Out of sight is out of mind
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4. |
Caves
04:16
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A boy walks down a city road
Passed strangers and riverboats
He boards a train to anywhere
He leaves his mother and his home
He left with pictures in his head
Memories enough to breathe life to the dead
He asked me where I am going to
But I don’t even know where I have come from yet
In the first degree above
I am here for the escape
Swallows nest in other caves
Rested far away from all of us
Bruised and beaten in the fog
Throughout the forest fall the driftwood logs
I take rest upon the waterfall
As the river flows slowly on
I left with pictures in my head
Memories enough to breathe life to the dead
I know exactly where I’m going to
And how I want my life to end
In the first degree above
I am here for the escape
Swallows nest in other caves
Rested far away from all of us
A boy walks own a city road
Passed strangers and riverboats
And through an open door
He makes his home
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5. |
Untitled #3
05:06
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Lines emerge from pictures
In circles move the days
Futures lie wakeful underneath
I can’t define the words
Lose yourself in perfect conversation; Slow
Capture life as pictures drawn by artists
Find new earth
Sow the seed and hope that seasons and time
Will make amends
Be still my dear
Take the first train and head for the ocean
There’s no one left here for you to be
Armed with only honesty
Be still my dear
Take the first train and head for the ocean
Pensive the dark in these city streets
Mark the pathway to misery
Be still my dear
Take the first train and head of the ocean
There’s no one left here for you to be
Armed with only honesty
Be still my dear
Take the first train and head for the ocean
Don’t wait for every dawn break
Sail out to sea
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Fitz London, UK
Artist & Producer of Avant-garde Folk Music
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