Thursday, June 17, 2010


Prospekt's March/Poppyfields

Smoke is rising from the houses
People burying their dead
I ask somebody what the time is
But time doesn't matter to them yet
People talking without speaking
Trying to take what they can get
I ask you if you remember
Prospekt how could I forget?
Drums!
Here it comes
Don't you wish that life could be as simple
As fish swimming round in a barrel when you've got the gun?
Oh and I run
Here it comes
We're just two little figures in a soup bowl
Trying to get behind some kind of control
But I wasn't one
But here am I on my own in a separate sky
And here I lie on my own in a separate sky

I don't wanna die on my own here tonight
And here I lie on my own in a separate sky

Love is a many painful thing

Oh my very fallen self
splattered all over the earth
over mountains
over the sea
parts crashing, crumbling
like waves on the sand

My fallen self, completely shattered
ruined, lost
and alone.