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