1. |
Closing Down
02:58
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can’t face your smile
i’m closing down as you open up
i’m not your style
(who would touch you now)
don’t let go
(who would love you now)
let’s wait awhile
i’m firing up as you’re cooling down
you sold out in style
(who would touch you now)
don’t let go
(who would love you now)
don’t want to end it here
i value what is dear
and now you’re running out of luck
too bad I couldn’t give a fuck
because whatever I hold true
it wasn’t good enough for you
it never worked out right for me
so now I’m closing down and you’re free
can’t face your smile
i’m taking stock as you lost the plot
you went out in style
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2. |
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suzy's room is full of paintings. 47 if you count them up
hanging on every wall
there's a lempicka, an ingermann, a sutter and van dongen
a churchill and 42 more
every style is here, every nation represented
a history of the twentieth century in one room
and all you'll see, dream or reality
is just Suzy's face gazing back at you
suzy, paint your face again
born in 1900, as suzanne rocher
you changed your name to suzy solidor
first a model and then a singer, you invited your admirers
to put down on paper their ideal of you
each one different, each the same, each one another version
of the truth you dared to show
and then you'll see, your dream reality
suzy's face gazing back at you
high up on the hillside, in the village, in a castle
is a room you learned to call your own
in later years you lived there, with the paintings on the walls
making plans for a future beyond you
never separated, never blinking, always on display,
they hang there permanently
and there I see, my dream reality
suzy's face hanging there gazing back at me
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3. |
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when I was younger my mind was tender
i didn’t realise I had it all
but now I’m older so much wiser
wishing I was someone half as tall
in this time we’re moving fast
thoughts of the last year rushing past
waiting here don’t move an inch
we’ll come around again on this slow bridge
look inside we’ve multiplied
we are a hundred people running wild
but none of them are you or I
or anyone we recognise at all
in this time we’re moving fast
thoughts of the last year rushing past
waiting here don’t move an inch
we’ll come around again on this slow bridge
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The Warm Highs London, UK
The Warm Highs inhabit a world of fuzzed out guitars, bedroom synths and big tunes. Heart on sleeve and head in hands, they're striking out for perfection & failing gloriously.
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