1. |
Creature
04:16
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2. |
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My father's father's father's woes, Oh,
Still alive but centuries old, Oh,
Under the carpets and swallowed with whisky,
Woven into book and theories,
But never conquered on it goes,
Passing the parcel, the next generation.
My mother's mother's mother's dreams, Oh,
Bubbling down into my genes, Oh,
Buried in baking and boys entertaining,
Fantasies sewn into the seams,
But where did all this energy go,
Ladies with passion, lost in asylums.
Zola and Larkin and old Euripides,
Calling us from their graves,
High on a mountain it's easy to see,
But down here we lose our way.
If "the child is father of the man",
What would our ancestors say?,
If Freud and Buddha sat together on the merry-go-round,
And put the brakes on today?
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3. |
Child Of Four
03:24
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4. |
The Owl Song
03:04
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