This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
[Kimya Dawson]
I spun and I stood and I looked back at the good
And I remembered seeing ghosts and I remembered being tiny
I remembered always hiding with only flashlights' lighting
Had to pee when you found the best spot, bad timing
Climbing a dogwood, barking, in bloom
Stains singing on the ceiling of a blue bedroom
Like a Harlem line, summertime, hootenanny barbecue
Screaming "I am fine," but I think they all knew
'Cause you can't hide your childhood flying dreams
Through your fishbowl-wall transparencies
And the clock tick-tocked, it was time to leave
I walked away from everyone and everything
And I thought when I left that I couldn't come back
With that old household, never home again
Then when I ran toward the one-man band
I began abandoning all my friends
[Aesop Rock]
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup, entirely divided from his hub
Addressing injuries commissioned by the Suffolk county brier
When building coverage out of rubber tires or guns out of thumbs
Negotiated inter-stellar peace talks
Mother-ship transmitting intel on the meatloaf
Um, it's getting cold, sugar water getting warm
Cruising to a future summer, suiting up for civil war
How? All dressed up like a spider in a cup
Hiding tiny butterflies inside his gut
Having settled down several thousand miles from his blood
To climb and tirelessly high-dive into a sponge
Space invaders through a paper Rita Hayworth
Trying to tunnel 'til he ankle deep in pay-dirt
Or halo deep in water, glub glub
Wondering if running is considered by the people to be cowardly or cunning
[Hook] (x2)
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
[Kimya Dawson]
I went east with a hole to fill in my chest
I went west with it filled, off to build a nest
I'm impressed, I'm depressed, I'm the best, I'm a mess
With a pretty little baby girl upon my breast
And next, progress, twist-turn, digress
Busy busy busy busy busy busy, never rest
I missed the rest, as you might suspect
And I try to fly, but my wings are wet
A kid in the woods, ducked down in the shrubs
Out of hiding just in time to greet the sun
So I here I stand with my hand out, cast a flame
I'm sorry that sometimes I'm so lame
I'm sorry that sometimes I'm a deadbeat friend
The worry makes me scurry into my own head
With my eyes on the rise, feet where it sets
Sentimental obstacles... of course, it's me, not them
[Aesop Rock]
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
I'm four bald tires in the mud
When it's diner food or bust
Spiraling a sign of what's to come
While pretending I am fine with what I've done
I'm not, but homies say to appreciate the crisis
And treat 'em like they seen 'em with a second set of eyelids
Okay, that wasn't fair, admittedly I wasn't there
Long before I volunteered as unabashed and unaware
How? All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
Who never knew a silence so abrupt
When the mileage in the middle turn a siren to a hush
First you hate it, then you love it, then you try it as a crutch
Long Island was the hatchery, NYC the whetstone
Sharpening the carving knives, foraging for breadcrumbs
I headed west, planned to boomerang back
Sidetracked by a trans-continental cage match
[Hook] (x2)
I spun and I stood and I looked back at the good
And I remembered seeing ghosts and I remembered being tiny
I remembered always hiding with only flashlights' lighting
Had to pee when you found the best spot, bad timing
Climbing a dogwood, barking, in bloom
Stains singing on the ceiling of a blue bedroom
Like a Harlem line, summertime, hootenanny barbecue
Screaming "I am fine," but I think they all knew
'Cause you can't hide your childhood flying dreams
Through your fishbowl-wall transparencies
And the clock tick-tocked, it was time to leave
I walked away from everyone and everything
And I thought when I left that I couldn't come back
With that old household, never home again
Then when I ran toward the one-man band
I began abandoning all my friends
[Aesop Rock]
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup, entirely divided from his hub
Addressing injuries commissioned by the Suffolk county brier
When building coverage out of rubber tires or guns out of thumbs
Negotiated inter-stellar peace talks
Mother-ship transmitting intel on the meatloaf
Um, it's getting cold, sugar water getting warm
Cruising to a future summer, suiting up for civil war
How? All dressed up like a spider in a cup
Hiding tiny butterflies inside his gut
Having settled down several thousand miles from his blood
To climb and tirelessly high-dive into a sponge
Space invaders through a paper Rita Hayworth
Trying to tunnel 'til he ankle deep in pay-dirt
Or halo deep in water, glub glub
Wondering if running is considered by the people to be cowardly or cunning
[Hook] (x2)
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
[Kimya Dawson]
I went east with a hole to fill in my chest
I went west with it filled, off to build a nest
I'm impressed, I'm depressed, I'm the best, I'm a mess
With a pretty little baby girl upon my breast
And next, progress, twist-turn, digress
Busy busy busy busy busy busy, never rest
I missed the rest, as you might suspect
And I try to fly, but my wings are wet
A kid in the woods, ducked down in the shrubs
Out of hiding just in time to greet the sun
So I here I stand with my hand out, cast a flame
I'm sorry that sometimes I'm so lame
I'm sorry that sometimes I'm a deadbeat friend
The worry makes me scurry into my own head
With my eyes on the rise, feet where it sets
Sentimental obstacles... of course, it's me, not them
[Aesop Rock]
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
I'm four bald tires in the mud
When it's diner food or bust
Spiraling a sign of what's to come
While pretending I am fine with what I've done
I'm not, but homies say to appreciate the crisis
And treat 'em like they seen 'em with a second set of eyelids
Okay, that wasn't fair, admittedly I wasn't there
Long before I volunteered as unabashed and unaware
How? All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
Who never knew a silence so abrupt
When the mileage in the middle turn a siren to a hush
First you hate it, then you love it, then you try it as a crutch
Long Island was the hatchery, NYC the whetstone
Sharpening the carving knives, foraging for breadcrumbs
I headed west, planned to boomerang back
Sidetracked by a trans-continental cage match
[Hook] (x2)
Lyrics submitted by jamie lee
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