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The Microphones

We're Here To Listen

 

We're Here To Listen

(album: Little Bird Flies Into A Big Black Cloud - 2002)


We've been talking all day
And we've bathed and ate supper
And now we pause for breath
And we acknowledge certain death
And the size and the possibility of living lustily

I am standing with my microphone before you all
You're looking right at me
You could scoot yourself closer
And why, why, why did we come here?

Someone made posters
We called for directions
So, so we relax our muscles
And I sing the same air as you
These words are the air you breathe
You are looking right at me
And our bodies sit firmly
On a ground that's still churning

And there's a rumble so deafening
And there's a roar from above
The squealing of love
And there's a crashing in the branches
And there's bass drums at dances
And there's a hissing on the freeway
And a whistling crevasse
The quiet hum of the moon

We'll all hum like that soon
We're here to listen
We're here to listen
We're here to listen

fait

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