This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
“Tough luck, I s'pose it's ‘ow a man is built”
You say yr father called you Admiral, you couldn't drink yr mother's milk.
Well it takes a little more than that to make you,
after all that you've been tampered with and toyed,
Yr just a tiny swimmer in a million, meets a tiny tissue in the void.
I never thought I would amount to much,
But I thought it might be much more than this,
Writing jingles for the factory, selling memories and sinking piss.
But when I saw that Mooney Hill balloon go up, that's when I first began to know,
And the last little puppy fat left, and that other kind of fat began to grow…
Who was the thief?
Having heard the story of the headstrong man, of the unhappy heartfelt woman,
When the fire came one up and ran, and didn't worry that the other couldn't,
To take a refuge in the boiling basin, to the flesh and to the midnight maul,
where the mood is for erasing, where the memory is of the Fall,
O but there's too many sharks in that harbor, and you don't have to swim in it to know,
You can hear the bells ringin' out for every shriekin', flappin' soul
Who was the thief
Who stole my self belief?
As the pieces floated by I saw a vacant eye, an obscene sight but I moved in overnight,
Now I can see all the sea can see, and I know the story of the coward's flight.
Well did he graduate from a lower class?
Or did he tumble from a great height?
If you're always lookin' after your own arse
You're gonna stumble on some hindsight.
But to the past there is no returning, from the past there is no reprieve,
There's no sleeping past check out,
You've gotta pack yr bags and leave.
Who was the thief
Who stole my self belief?
Now I'm trading nightmares on the stark exchange,
Where hearts are fat and hair is thin,
I just know I can make a killing
If I can tally up enough sin,
And then I'll buy myself a house on the harbor,
And every song my hummingbird heart will sing
Is gonna have the same refrain,
“One day my ship will come in”
You say yr father called you Admiral, you couldn't drink yr mother's milk.
Well it takes a little more than that to make you,
after all that you've been tampered with and toyed,
Yr just a tiny swimmer in a million, meets a tiny tissue in the void.
I never thought I would amount to much,
But I thought it might be much more than this,
Writing jingles for the factory, selling memories and sinking piss.
But when I saw that Mooney Hill balloon go up, that's when I first began to know,
And the last little puppy fat left, and that other kind of fat began to grow…
Who was the thief?
Having heard the story of the headstrong man, of the unhappy heartfelt woman,
When the fire came one up and ran, and didn't worry that the other couldn't,
To take a refuge in the boiling basin, to the flesh and to the midnight maul,
where the mood is for erasing, where the memory is of the Fall,
O but there's too many sharks in that harbor, and you don't have to swim in it to know,
You can hear the bells ringin' out for every shriekin', flappin' soul
Who was the thief
Who stole my self belief?
As the pieces floated by I saw a vacant eye, an obscene sight but I moved in overnight,
Now I can see all the sea can see, and I know the story of the coward's flight.
Well did he graduate from a lower class?
Or did he tumble from a great height?
If you're always lookin' after your own arse
You're gonna stumble on some hindsight.
But to the past there is no returning, from the past there is no reprieve,
There's no sleeping past check out,
You've gotta pack yr bags and leave.
Who was the thief
Who stole my self belief?
Now I'm trading nightmares on the stark exchange,
Where hearts are fat and hair is thin,
I just know I can make a killing
If I can tally up enough sin,
And then I'll buy myself a house on the harbor,
And every song my hummingbird heart will sing
Is gonna have the same refrain,
“One day my ship will come in”
Lyrics submitted by cutcopypaste
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Great version of a great song,
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i think this is brilliant. to have it hidden away on an e.p that hasn't been heard much shows the depth of glenn richards song writing- every augie march fan should hear this song. it makes reference to the australian author c.j. dennis in the first line. the sound of the bells, along with the references to the harbour, 'shriekin', flappin' souls' & the sea are all allusions to the poem five bells by kenneth slessor. in a lot of ways it's a very similar view to that poem, written more than fifty years later it shows the isolated male trying to make sense in a very australian landscape/mindset. but it's hopeful, too. the music is hopeful even beside the doubts in the lyrics. hot damn. what a great thing. this would have to be my favourite song in the whole world.