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lirik lagu old home - any of the apollos

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[verse 1]
i walk along the hot, shifting tar
between ugly, gruesome buildings
in the city of windows with curtains drawn
and i see a woman, bent with age and fear
beating her frail fists on the pavement
weeping
waiting to be swallowed by the oceans and deserts
waiting to die
and as i walk further, i see a group of boys playing soccer
between rusty, scr~p~metal cars
and the sun blinks slowly above mountains in the distance
monstrous mountains that will one day be swallowed by the ocean
and the clouds drift across the infinite sky
and vehicles clog up the lungs of the earth with poisonous fumes
and all the while i walk, waiting for shadows to cut me in half

[verse 2]
i see boring, empty vessels, reading newspapers on porch steps
and as i stumble on i consider the animal kingdom
the pride of lions that wander the african savannas
so happy, so brilliant, so free
and the migrating buffalo that live by the seasons
that wander aimlessly back and forth
not knowing how long they’ve been alive or for how long they will continue to live
and the bald eagles catching salmon
without the heavy burden of impractical and unnecessary intelligence
a siren sounds, but it does nothing to catch my attention
i keep walking
[verse 3]
past factories and overflowing hospitals
down to the lake and across the bridge as buses rumble past me
as ants weave through tires and feet to retrieve apple cores~~and rats, crackers
and birds sit in the branches of flame trees and jacarandas that have more or less given up
and when i reach the train station i watch people waiting
a boy reading a comic, trying to escape everybody’s gaze
and to my left there’s a girl with a white t~shirt and strawberry hair
and a little further away are two princesses, obviously in love, beautifully in love
and when the train pulls in i get on and close my eyes
and every now and then a train goes past the opposite way and the carriage shakes
an almighty sound, like rockets taking off from cape canaveral
and i wonder if sputnik burst any eardrums, or any of the apollos
before, finally, i reach my stop

[verse 4]
disembark, keep walking
dodging the white stains of streetlights
and when i reach my door
i fumble for the keys and turn the handle
i see her on the couch
her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open
and i take off all the trouble and anxiety and restlessness and questioning
and i kiss her cheek
i feel golden, like a million bucks
i curl up next to her, and close my eyes
waiting for sleep


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