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The Streets

The Escapist

 

The Escapist

(album: Everything Is Borrowed - 2008)


All these walls were never really there
Nor the ceiling, or the chair
I am eking weeks of peace on a beach
I've seen the breezes weave the trees
These walls, you'll find, are yours and mine
Defined not by them, I
I'm in times that lie behind my eyelids
The sunset still, the rising silence

I'll not feel no fear
'Cause I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here

There's no rain on roof that grates and beats me
My favourite tree breaking light to pieces
Sprinkling sharded light on me
Throw a stone as high as you can
And hearing with hand, not hear it land
Nothing taxing, dusting sand
My window world spins and twirls
The walls then fall, I recall the sort
White clouds whitewash, faded spotless
The weighty shadows, ranges of rocks
The cold is all an illusion thought up
I stroll on the shore, snooze and explore
All possibilities in each new morning
'Til satisfied, reaching out and yawning
Fish in a big dish, some rice and spice
Salt over shoulder, never salted so tight
The truth I have told was silence sometimes
But whose soul does not hide any crimes?
Wrapped in walls, encircled by work
The walls fall, the story occurs
No barrier, no boundary or allow as I please (Tick, tick, tick)
The freedom to stay or stray
Be fiend or friend, 'cause no harm but charm
The peaceful end

I'll not feel no fear
'Cause I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here
I'll not feel no fear
'Cause I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here

Pale ancient woods strew white sandy bays
This ugly room pales away today
I'm swimming in the ocean, I sink slow motion
Fingers, toes floating
Every year 'til yesterday
I've seen the eternal setting sea
I compare all this to me
It's all fleeting momentary me
I blink my eyes, this is reminding me
Life lies in the blink of an eye
The old die for reasons, new tides, four seasons
New life born is like sneezing
All these walls were really never there
Nor the ceiling or the chair
I'm eking weeks of peace on a beach
I see the breezes weave the trees
I'm not here at all, you're dearly fooled
I see bustling trees, the shush at the sea
The mischievous fluttering seagulls
No, I'm not trapped in a box, I'm glancing at rocks
I'm dancing off docks
Since this dance began
That's where I am

I'll not feel no fear
'Cause I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here
I'll not feel no fear
'Cause I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here

So done

Fatto

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