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Artiste:
Chris Ayer
Titre:
Boys Throwing Bikes
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Midnight comes down the hill, the radiator’s shaking and we're sitting looking down, cross-legged on the ground what’s left of our connection now Maybe next year it would have worked better maybe last year you woulda stayed maybe ignored the warning signs born in your mind a hundred times a day that say you gotta run away, girl, run away. But I don’t blame you none. it’s like I say: We are tiny, we are living we are scared of being real we all worry about time passing wind up missing every meal you know we've got a lot to handle as the night light reveals that we are branches falling out of trees and the breeze is gonna take its time until we make up our minds and find it’s really no big deal. Tonight I’m your circus clown and I hang myself with alcohol and all after the show and I head in crazed directions, picking up the broken bikes and putting them back in the rack as I go All the bikes that all the drunk boys like to smash n toss n let em go below I said they take the time to pick em up and carry them up the stairs and them let ‘em go let ‘em go, let ‘em go, another ‘heave ho’ But I don’t blame them none, knowing what I know: That they are tiny, they are restless and they know they know the deal they all worry about time passing don’t have time for what is real and they’ve got a lot to handle as the night light reveals that they are branches falling out of trees and the breeze is gonna take its time until we make up our minds and find in time it’s really no big deal. I’m speck of dust on the wall y'see cause don’t need no personality And I'm waking up, and I can see you’re gone just like you said you’d be But sitting on the table is a note you wrote all things you said you could not see, could not see with me and I can hardly read, I hardly try, but I can finally recognize that it’s addressed to me all your best wishes and dreams addressed to me. and it says: we are tiny, we are hopeful we are heaven and the saints we are children making pictures and we don’t know how to paint we are the memory of a memory of the time we used to say that we are branches falling out of trees and the breeze is gonna take its time until we make up our minds and find that when we make up our minds yeah we’ll find out someday that we are tiny, we are living we are scared of being real and we all worry about time passing wind up missing every meal and we’ve got a lot to handle but the night light reveals that we are branches falling out of trees and the breeze is gonna take its time until we make up our minds and find that we make up our minds in time if we can make up our minds we’ll find it’s really no big deal. so come on and be alright with me thank you for the walk we took tonight I’m alright I can’t own you, or control you, so I’ll let go of you and I’ll let go, like a boy throwing his bike and I think I might and I think I might I might.