Mike Skinner alias The Streets se stal objevem roku 2002 nejen v domovské Velké Británii díky svému fantastickému debutu Original Pirate Material. Jeho nové album "A Grand Don´t Come For Free" (2004) je dlouho očekávanou bombou pro všechny...
Píseň: The Escapist
- Interpret:
- The Streets
- Album:
- Everything Is Borrowed
All these walls were never really there Nor the ceiling or the chair I am eking weeks of peace on a beach I see the breezes weave the trees These walls you find - they're yours and mine Confined not by them I I am in times that lie behind my eyelids The sunsets steal the rising silence I'll not feel no fear 'Cause I'm not really here I'm nowhere near here There's no rain on roof that grates and beats me My favorite tree breaking lights to pieces Sprinkling, shaded light on me Throw a stone as high as you can And hearing with hand not hear it land Nothing taxing, dusting sand My window and world spins and twirls The walls then fall, I recall the sore White clouds white wash faded spotless The weighty shadows, ranges of rocks The cold is all illusion thought up The stroll on the shore, snooze and explore All possibilities in each new morning Until satisfied reaching out, yawning Fish in a big dish, some rice and spice Salt over shoulder never (?) The truth I've told was silence sometimes But who soul does not hide any crimes Wrapped in walls, encircled by work The walls fall - this story occurs No barrier, no boundary, all hours I please The freedom to stay all stray Be fiend or friend, cause no harm but charm - the peaceful end I'll not feel no fear 'Cause I'm not really here I'm nowhere near here Pale ancient woods, strewn white sandy bays This ugly room pales away today I am swimming, in the ocean I sink slow motion Fingers, toes floating Every year 'til yesterday Seeing the eternal setting sea I compare all this to me Little fleeting momentary me I blink my eyes, this is reminding me Life lies in the blink of an eye The old die for reasons, new tide, four seasons New life born is like changing All these walls were really never there Nor the ceiling or the chair I am eking weeks of peace on a beach I see the breezes weave the trees I am not here at all You dearly fooled I see busheling trees, the shush at the sea The mischievous Fluttering seagulls No! I'm not trapped in a box, I'm glancing at rocks I am dancing off docks Since this dance began That's where I am I'm not feel no fear Cause I'm not really here I'm nowhere near