The CD version of '...loves you' comes in hand-folded sleeve, specially designed by Claire Harrison.
Includes unlimited streaming of ...Loves You
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 5 days
£7GBP
You own this
lyrics
They told us today was the first day of spring
and wheeled us out into the light
of a garden that’s long
like a haiku gone wrong – strung out with military spite
And though no shoots had burst from the fists of the earth
and the hills still had knuckles of white
I know that the tilt of our axis will help them relax
and I know that it’s good that you write
I was trying to describe you to
a hit-man named Laverne
I said, ‘Pick out a place
in-between her two faces
take twenty paces and turn’
And if he should miss, I may learn to forgive
the night that you pissed in my urn
but his rubber band gun’s hanging loose at his thumb
and I guess that you will never learn
how much I love you
Yes, I love you
And yes, I remember, Zembla in June
the street-sellers’ cries and the room where we slept
How we let the mosquitoes and the children we vetoed
repaint the walls, make us breakfast in bed
and the landlord would walk in on eggshells and baulk
at the splashes of passionate red
but most of all I recall
all the mornings we’d rise with the moon in our eyes
try to talk the sun down from the ledge
Sister Marie brings me paper
and crayons she steals from the visitors’ lounge
she lives here upstairs in a dorm that she swears
is just as attractive as ours
she’s been testing her bed
and our caretaker Ed
and she folds every night at the score
and she shrinks from his side as she tries on for size
the voice beating up through her floor
desperately singing:
‘I love you
Yes, I love you‘
The Sister was reading your letter
she said that
this time
I just must understand
so I’ve had to disclose some of our secret codes
and your gift for disguising your hand
And she kissed both my cheeks
and she sobbed with relief
when I showed her what you’d really said
how you’ll be here any day now to take me away
and to help me to sort out my head
I will meet you when I’m nine years old
in a park where the swings are on fire
and we’ll play in the dust as the roundabouts rust
and the trees hold the telegraph wire
so you won’t be alone on the night you come home
to find out that your dad couldn’t steer
and I will grow up just fine
knowing my missing rhymes