Narrow Gauge
from Minutes to Manifest Destiny by Marconi
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lyrics
Pressure, pent up in a pants-down,
Roses-posed-with-rings-around,
Wonder-how-it-pans-out…
Every window in the car’s been rolled down at least once,
Like every beat on every street.
Every train on every track from here and back goes “clack, clack”.
Irish and Chinese lay all their friends in the ground,
Drowned by the sound of the shovel strokes choking all their broke hopes,
Talking up the gold rush, canteens cut with coal dust,
Planting with their plans out.
Every window in the car’s been rolled down at least once,
Like every street by every beat.
Every train on every track from here and back goes “clack, clack”.
We’ll shop when our ship comes in.
We’ll stop when our spit’s spent on something that the cat dragged in.
Other fish in the sea. Please.
We’ll miss when the motion begins.
We’ll kiss when the bottle stops spinning what the spin reeled in.
Other fish in the sea. Please.
Irish and Chinese lay all their tools on the ground,
Crowned by the sound of the small change chains cut off of the train gang,
Race out past the gold rush, fill their packs with gold dust,
Panting with their pans out.
Roses-posed-with-rings-around,
Wonder-how-it-pans-out…
Every window in the car’s been rolled down at least once,
Like every beat on every street.
Every train on every track from here and back goes “clack, clack”.
Irish and Chinese lay all their friends in the ground,
Drowned by the sound of the shovel strokes choking all their broke hopes,
Talking up the gold rush, canteens cut with coal dust,
Planting with their plans out.
Every window in the car’s been rolled down at least once,
Like every street by every beat.
Every train on every track from here and back goes “clack, clack”.
We’ll shop when our ship comes in.
We’ll stop when our spit’s spent on something that the cat dragged in.
Other fish in the sea. Please.
We’ll miss when the motion begins.
We’ll kiss when the bottle stops spinning what the spin reeled in.
Other fish in the sea. Please.
Irish and Chinese lay all their tools on the ground,
Crowned by the sound of the small change chains cut off of the train gang,
Race out past the gold rush, fill their packs with gold dust,
Panting with their pans out.
credits
from Minutes to Manifest Destiny,
released September 11, 2010
license
all rights reserved
tags
discography
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Apr 2011 -
Apr 2011 -
Dec 2010 -
Sep 2010 -
Oct 2009 -
Apr 2008 -
Feb 2007 -
Aug 2006 -
Jul 2006
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