Lyrics

THE SAME EXPLOSIONS
Words by Benjamin Wood (c) 2008

every morning cleaves like a blade
when it ushers in the day with the rolling groan
of car wheels inching down the motorway and though
there is sweetness to this place like warm Lucozade
it looks so much better in the bottle than it tastes
I feel like I'm on the bridge of sighs
with my head held high
walking to the gallows over heads of gondoliers
I wanna shake up my life
like soil from the bulbs of long-forgotten flowers
on buried roman roads

so keep the sunlight off my skin
and board up all the windows
'cause where do I, where do I begin
to tell you what is wrong
with this fetid little island we're on
where do I begin
to tell you to grab on
to any passing ice-floe
and never let it, never let it go

this evening I'm gonna watch the fireworks
from the comfort of my room
and see the colours splinter in the leaden sky
and wonder how it can really be
that in the 21st Century
we're all still gawking at the same explosions
we used to back in 1853
and maybe it's just me
but all I'm seeing now are animals and vegetables
and stars born from other stars
made of nothing more than the reflections
of the things we could have been

so keep the sunlight off my skin
and board up all the windows
'cause where do I, where do I begin
to tell you what is wrong
with this fetid little island we're on
where do I begin
to tell you to grab on
to any passing ice-floe
and never let it, never let it go