| [00:00.74] |
My Oldest Memory - Bowerbirds |
| [00:12.22] |
I cracked my knuckles, and I said grace |
| [00:20.12] |
|
| [00:21.24] |
And gave thanks for being |
| [00:24.85] |
a hundred and still feeling amazed. |
| [00:30.18] |
|
| [00:30.86] |
Out where the waves wrestle with the dirty brine, |
| [00:41.25] |
|
| [00:44.84] |
This is a lonely place. This was a home of mine. |
| [00:54.84] |
After the struggle, Id watch the sand settle |
| [01:08.32] |
|
| [01:08.94] |
Over the quiet reef. Its my oldest memory. |
| [01:19.46] |
|
| [01:22.84] |
And I dont know whose land were on. |
| [01:28.48] |
|
| [01:29.58] |
Is this an island that plots like a villain, |
| [01:39.54] |
|
| [01:40.27] |
Or an old ghost friend we dont believe in? |
| [01:51.61] |
|
| [01:57.09] |
I dont know. |
| [02:01.07] |
|
| [02:05.65] |
I curse the weapon we stub our toes on. |
| [02:13.19] |
|
| [02:14.60] |
Its the land of make believe, |
| [02:19.03] |
|
| [02:19.83] |
cant you see, cant you see? |
| [02:22.78] |
|
| [02:26.53] |
Now in the dirt where I put my feet, |
| [02:30.80] |
|
| [02:33.55] |
and in the trunk of my body, |
| [02:36.60] |
|
| [02:40.00] |
Im only shy, here, when I want to be, |
| [02:44.40] |
|
| [02:45.01] |
my head between my cypress knees. |
| [02:48.71] |
|
| [02:50.87] |
And in the top of the canopy of the trees I am climbing, |
| [03:01.24] |
|
| [03:04.35] |
The morning sun here, you will see. |
| [03:09.28] |
Its my oldest memory. |
| [03:12.37] |
|
| [03:16.49] |
And I dont know whose land were on. |
| [03:21.80] |
|
| [03:23.16] |
Is this an island that plots like a villain, |
| [03:33.19] |
|
| [03:34.00] |
Or an old ghost friend we dont believe in? |
| [03:45.31] |
|
| [03:50.82] |
Is this an island that plots like a villain, |
| [04:00.77] |
|
| [04:01.39] |
Or an old ghost friend we dont believe in? |
| [04:11.01] |
|
| [04:18.46] |
I dont know |
| [04:21.49] |
|
