Losing Haringeygey

Losing Haringeygey 歌词

歌曲 Losing Haringeygey
歌手 The Clientele
专辑 Strange Geometry
下载 Image LRC TXT
[00:01.000] 作词:Alasdair MacLean
[00:02.000] 作曲:The Clientele,Alasdair MacLean
[00:05.342] "In those days, there was a kind of fever that pushed me out of the front door, into the pale,
[00:09.522] exhaust-fumed park by Broadwater Farm or the grubby road that eventually leads to Enfield:
[00:15.216] turkish supermarket after chicken restaurant after spare car part shop.
[00:19.187] Everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close:
[00:22.687] I could hardly walk to the end of a street without feeling there was no way to go except back.
[00:27.154] The dates I’d had that summer had come to nothing,
[00:29.766] my job was a dead end and the rent cheque was killing me a little more each month.
[00:33.711] It seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer.
[00:36.428] The only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed,
[00:41.417] but for now the summer stretched between me and that moment.
[00:43.977]
[00:44.787] It was ferociously hot,
[00:46.276] and the air quality became so bad that by the evening
[00:48.914] the noise of nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts,
[00:53.277] distorted through the shifting air.
[00:55.523] As I lay in the cool of my room,
[00:58.292] I could hear my neighbours discussing the world cup and opening beers in their gardens.
[01:00.904] On the other side, someone was singing an Arabic prayer through the thin wall.
[01:04.901] I had no money for the pub so I decided to go for a walk.
[01:07.905]
[01:09.028] I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west,
[01:11.928] past the terrace of chip and kebab shops and laundrettes near the tube station.
[01:16.160] I crossed the street, and headed into virgin territory - I had never been this way before.
[01:20.836] Gravel-dashed houses alternated with square 60s offices,
[01:24.493] and the wide pavements undulated with cracks and litter.
[01:27.680] I walked and walked, because there was nothing else for me to do,
[01:30.684] and by degrees the light began to fade.
[01:32.878]
[01:33.897] The mouth of an avenue led me to the verge of a long,
[01:36.483] greasy A-road that rose up in the far distance,
[01:39.357] with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down then up again from a distant railway station.
[01:45.313] There were four benches to my right,
[01:47.611] interspersed with those strange bushes that grow in the area,
[01:50.093] whose blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent, almost spectral; and suddenly tired,
[01:55.056] I sat down.
[01:56.885] I held my head in my hands, feeling like ****,
[01:59.758] but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment
[02:02.606] I lost my thoughts in its unexpected coolness.
[02:05.897] I looked up and I realised I was sitting in a photograph.
[02:08.901]
[02:10.260] I remembered clearly:
[02:11.879] this photograph was taken by my mother in 1982, outside our front garden in Hampshire.
[02:16.529] It was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting on the bench,
[02:19.820] but the colours and the planes of the road and horizon had become the photo.
[02:24.496] If I looked hard,
[02:26.194] I could see the lines of the window ledge in the original photograph were now composed
[02:28.545] by a tree branch and the silhouetted edge of a grass verge.
[02:32.751] The sheen of the flash on the window was replicated
[02:35.233] by bonfire smoke drifting infinitesimally slowly from behind a fence.
[02:40.117] My sister’s face had been dimly visible behind the window,
[02:43.409] and -yes- there were pale stars far off to the west that traced out the lines of a toddler’s eyes and mouth.
[02:49.731]
[02:50.070] When I look back at this there’s nothing to grasp, no starting point.
[02:52.395] I was inside an underexposed photo from 1982 but I was also sitting on a bench in Haringey.
[02:59.344]
[03:00.232] Strongest of all was the feeling of 1982-ness: dizzy, illogical,
[03:04.829] as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet.
[03:08.617] I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back - to school,
[03:14.103] the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my mother’s car.
[03:18.178] All gone, gone forever.
[03:19.249]
[03:20.424] I just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn’t bother trying to work out what was going on.
[03:25.492] I was happy just to sit in the photo while it lasted,
[03:28.392] which wasn’t for long anyway: the light faded, the wind caught the smoke,
[03:31.866] the stars dimmed under the glare of the streetlamps.
[03:34.635] I got up and walked away from the squat little benches and an oncoming gang of kids.
[03:38.475]
[03:39.363] A bus was rumbling to my rescue down the hill, with a great big ‘via Alexandra Palace’ on its front,
[03:45.502] and I realised I did want a drink after all."
[00:01.000] zuo ci: Alasdair MacLean
[00:02.000] zuo qu: The Clientele, Alasdair MacLean
[00:05.342] " In those days, there was a kind of fever that pushed me out of the front door, into the pale,
[00:09.522] exhaustfumed park by Broadwater Farm or the grubby road that eventually leads to Enfield:
[00:15.216] turkish supermarket after chicken restaurant after spare car part shop.
[00:19.187] Everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close:
[00:22.687] I could hardly walk to the end of a street without feeling there was no way to go except back.
[00:27.154] The dates I' d had that summer had come to nothing,
[00:29.766] my job was a dead end and the rent cheque was killing me a little more each month.
[00:33.711] It seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer.
[00:36.428] The only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed,
[00:41.417] but for now the summer stretched between me and that moment.
[00:43.977]
[00:44.787] It was ferociously hot,
[00:46.276] and the air quality became so bad that by the evening
[00:48.914] the noise of nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts,
[00:53.277] distorted through the shifting air.
[00:55.523] As I lay in the cool of my room,
[00:58.292] I could hear my neighbours discussing the world cup and opening beers in their gardens.
[01:00.904] On the other side, someone was singing an Arabic prayer through the thin wall.
[01:04.901] I had no money for the pub so I decided to go for a walk.
[01:07.905]
[01:09.028] I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west,
[01:11.928] past the terrace of chip and kebab shops and laundrettes near the tube station.
[01:16.160] I crossed the street, and headed into virgin territory I had never been this way before.
[01:20.836] Graveldashed houses alternated with square 60s offices,
[01:24.493] and the wide pavements undulated with cracks and litter.
[01:27.680] I walked and walked, because there was nothing else for me to do,
[01:30.684] and by degrees the light began to fade.
[01:32.878]
[01:33.897] The mouth of an avenue led me to the verge of a long,
[01:36.483] greasy Aroad that rose up in the far distance,
[01:39.357] with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down then up again from a distant railway station.
[01:45.313] There were four benches to my right,
[01:47.611] interspersed with those strange bushes that grow in the area,
[01:50.093] whose blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent, almost spectral and suddenly tired,
[01:55.056] I sat down.
[01:56.885] I held my head in my hands, feeling like ,
[01:59.758] but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment
[02:02.606] I lost my thoughts in its unexpected coolness.
[02:05.897] I looked up and I realised I was sitting in a photograph.
[02:08.901]
[02:10.260] I remembered clearly:
[02:11.879] this photograph was taken by my mother in 1982, outside our front garden in Hampshire.
[02:16.529] It was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting on the bench,
[02:19.820] but the colours and the planes of the road and horizon had become the photo.
[02:24.496] If I looked hard,
[02:26.194] I could see the lines of the window ledge in the original photograph were now composed
[02:28.545] by a tree branch and the silhouetted edge of a grass verge.
[02:32.751] The sheen of the flash on the window was replicated
[02:35.233] by bonfire smoke drifting infinitesimally slowly from behind a fence.
[02:40.117] My sister' s face had been dimly visible behind the window,
[02:43.409] and yes there were pale stars far off to the west that traced out the lines of a toddler' s eyes and mouth.
[02:49.731]
[02:50.070] When I look back at this there' s nothing to grasp, no starting point.
[02:52.395] I was inside an underexposed photo from 1982 but I was also sitting on a bench in Haringey.
[02:59.344]
[03:00.232] Strongest of all was the feeling of 1982ness: dizzy, illogical,
[03:04.829] as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet.
[03:08.617] I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back to school,
[03:14.103] the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my mother' s car.
[03:18.178] All gone, gone forever.
[03:19.249]
[03:20.424] I just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn' t bother trying to work out what was going on.
[03:25.492] I was happy just to sit in the photo while it lasted,
[03:28.392] which wasn' t for long anyway: the light faded, the wind caught the smoke,
[03:31.866] the stars dimmed under the glare of the streetlamps.
[03:34.635] I got up and walked away from the squat little benches and an oncoming gang of kids.
[03:38.475]
[03:39.363] A bus was rumbling to my rescue down the hill, with a great big ' via Alexandra Palace' on its front,
[03:45.502] and I realised I did want a drink after all."
[00:01.000] zuò cí: Alasdair MacLean
[00:02.000] zuò qǔ: The Clientele, Alasdair MacLean
[00:05.342] " In those days, there was a kind of fever that pushed me out of the front door, into the pale,
[00:09.522] exhaustfumed park by Broadwater Farm or the grubby road that eventually leads to Enfield:
[00:15.216] turkish supermarket after chicken restaurant after spare car part shop.
[00:19.187] Everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close:
[00:22.687] I could hardly walk to the end of a street without feeling there was no way to go except back.
[00:27.154] The dates I' d had that summer had come to nothing,
[00:29.766] my job was a dead end and the rent cheque was killing me a little more each month.
[00:33.711] It seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer.
[00:36.428] The only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed,
[00:41.417] but for now the summer stretched between me and that moment.
[00:43.977]
[00:44.787] It was ferociously hot,
[00:46.276] and the air quality became so bad that by the evening
[00:48.914] the noise of nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts,
[00:53.277] distorted through the shifting air.
[00:55.523] As I lay in the cool of my room,
[00:58.292] I could hear my neighbours discussing the world cup and opening beers in their gardens.
[01:00.904] On the other side, someone was singing an Arabic prayer through the thin wall.
[01:04.901] I had no money for the pub so I decided to go for a walk.
[01:07.905]
[01:09.028] I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west,
[01:11.928] past the terrace of chip and kebab shops and laundrettes near the tube station.
[01:16.160] I crossed the street, and headed into virgin territory I had never been this way before.
[01:20.836] Graveldashed houses alternated with square 60s offices,
[01:24.493] and the wide pavements undulated with cracks and litter.
[01:27.680] I walked and walked, because there was nothing else for me to do,
[01:30.684] and by degrees the light began to fade.
[01:32.878]
[01:33.897] The mouth of an avenue led me to the verge of a long,
[01:36.483] greasy Aroad that rose up in the far distance,
[01:39.357] with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down then up again from a distant railway station.
[01:45.313] There were four benches to my right,
[01:47.611] interspersed with those strange bushes that grow in the area,
[01:50.093] whose blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent, almost spectral and suddenly tired,
[01:55.056] I sat down.
[01:56.885] I held my head in my hands, feeling like ,
[01:59.758] but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment
[02:02.606] I lost my thoughts in its unexpected coolness.
[02:05.897] I looked up and I realised I was sitting in a photograph.
[02:08.901]
[02:10.260] I remembered clearly:
[02:11.879] this photograph was taken by my mother in 1982, outside our front garden in Hampshire.
[02:16.529] It was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting on the bench,
[02:19.820] but the colours and the planes of the road and horizon had become the photo.
[02:24.496] If I looked hard,
[02:26.194] I could see the lines of the window ledge in the original photograph were now composed
[02:28.545] by a tree branch and the silhouetted edge of a grass verge.
[02:32.751] The sheen of the flash on the window was replicated
[02:35.233] by bonfire smoke drifting infinitesimally slowly from behind a fence.
[02:40.117] My sister' s face had been dimly visible behind the window,
[02:43.409] and yes there were pale stars far off to the west that traced out the lines of a toddler' s eyes and mouth.
[02:49.731]
[02:50.070] When I look back at this there' s nothing to grasp, no starting point.
[02:52.395] I was inside an underexposed photo from 1982 but I was also sitting on a bench in Haringey.
[02:59.344]
[03:00.232] Strongest of all was the feeling of 1982ness: dizzy, illogical,
[03:04.829] as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet.
[03:08.617] I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back to school,
[03:14.103] the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my mother' s car.
[03:18.178] All gone, gone forever.
[03:19.249]
[03:20.424] I just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn' t bother trying to work out what was going on.
[03:25.492] I was happy just to sit in the photo while it lasted,
[03:28.392] which wasn' t for long anyway: the light faded, the wind caught the smoke,
[03:31.866] the stars dimmed under the glare of the streetlamps.
[03:34.635] I got up and walked away from the squat little benches and an oncoming gang of kids.
[03:38.475]
[03:39.363] A bus was rumbling to my rescue down the hill, with a great big ' via Alexandra Palace' on its front,
[03:45.502] and I realised I did want a drink after all."
Losing Haringeygey 歌词
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