1. |
Qrendi (Headless)
03:15
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You’re beautiful, but you’re headless
Like the statues from my childhood
On display, in a museum
For the whole world to see
You’re beautiful, but you’re headless
Like the statues from my childhood
On display, in a museum
For the whole world to see
For the whole world to see we’re all made up of ones and zeroes
Categorised as villains or heroes
A thick line drawn down the centre
A sinner, or repenter
Guilty; or not so much
A tough jury, or a soft touch
Divided along binary lines
Getting away with it or getting fined
Grab a mug and pick your poison
Tea or coffee; whatever is chosen
Double or nothing, spin the wheel
Gamble it all, make the deal
You’re beautiful, but you’re headless
Like the statues from my childhood
On display, in a museum
For the whole world to see
You’re beautiful, but you’re headless
Like the statues from my childhood
On display, in a museum
For the whole world to see
The exception that proves the rule
Government informer formerly a mule
Number nine, starting striker
Substituted after only forty-five
Day-time food delivery biker
Night-time driver, modern day Godiva
Jumping lights, starting fights
And returning home to be an amazing father
The pet cat sits alongside the dog
Watching the fireplace burning logs
Travis Bickle studies himself in the mirror
The world continues to turn
You’re beautiful, but you’re headless
Like the statues from my childhood
On display, in a museum
For the whole world to see
You’re beautiful, but you’re headless
Like the statues from my childhood
On display, in a museum
For the whole world to see
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2. |
Paceville (Late Nights)
01:40
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Late nights, but too early mornings
I’m always surrounded by people but I’m always alone
I feel like I haven’t been out in weeks
Yet I can’t remember what it is to sleep
I should be doing something but I’m not
My brain is shot, I don’t feel too hot
I find myself yabbing on with no control
A head like a cabbage with a brain full of mould
I can’t stop the rush, words escape my tongue
Expectations crushed, I don’t know what they are
To me they’re so far
I’m a ghost of myself
Having a dance with Christmas Past, we’re having a blast
A shotgun shell, a bird is felled
I come crashing back to Earth
But I can’t tell if mind will meld
With four hours of sleep and a large bitter coffee
No decaf, I’ll never understand
While I chug on one, too
What’s a boy to do?
I use the term loosely, but ‘man’ never quite fits me
Like I should accomplish more
And know what’s in store
But do we ever know?
Or do we turn to ghosts and piles of ashes
Strawberry gashes and false starts
Broken hearts, false adults
Late nights, but too early mornings
Stop me
I’m coming home
I’m coming home
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3. |
Luqa (Continental Drift)
02:26
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I never quite felt at home
I never quite felt so alone
I never know what to do with these feelings that are my own
I never quite felt at home
I never quite felt so alone
I never know what to do with these feelings that are my own
Waking up in a country that never quite feels like home
Macauley Culkin is home alone, I know how it goes
When other guys feel the need to roam
Feelings of abandonment fill my head
The dread of falling shy of the line
I needed just a little more time to shine
To feel fine in my own skin
In my own head, to try to win
We’ll see, I guess it’s too much stress
Keep blessed, it’s breaking me
So I wash down these prescriptions pills with dusty tap water
Bear with me and I’ll try again
I never quite felt at home
I never quite felt so alone
I never know what to do with these feelings that are my own
I never quite felt at home
I never quite felt so alone
I never know what to do with these feelings that are my own
Working out where I come from has been an arduous trip
I tripped and fell, I’ve come under your spell
You help me out, help me be me, whatever that means
A lifelong journey
Self-awareness is a struggle when I have no identity
Do you see what I see?
I’m the Man in the Mirror from ‘Bad’
Nineteen eighty seven, that’s me
Listening to MJ tapes through broken headphones
At three, but on my own
Trying to dance in my parents’ living room
Is it too soon or shall I try again?
I never quite felt at home
I never quite felt so alone
I never know what to do with these feelings that are my own
I never quite felt at home
I never quite felt so alone
I never know what to do with these feelings that are my own
I never quite felt at home
I never quite felt so alone
I never know what to do with these feelings that are my own
I never quite felt at home
I never quite felt so alone
I never know what to do with these feelings that are my own
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Frank Fiott Cambridge, UK
Record label owner, professional wrestling ring announcer, and occasional pop singer.
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