"Fly Boy Blue/Lunette" as written by Guy Edward John Garvey, Craig Lee Potter, Mark Potter, Peter James Turner and Richard Barry Jupp....
It's a lethal ballet
Air traffic congestion
I'm having a baby
Second thoughts, scotch, dinner
And someone's dancing on the box
A former MP
And no one was watching

My oldest friends are a serious habit
Fly boy blue, so bring your faces home,
To my sweet trampoline
And acres of crash site love

Someone's dancing on the box
A former MP
And no one was watching
My oldest friends are a serious habit
Fly boy blue, so bring your faces home
To my sweet trampoline
And acres of crash site love

Presidential delays
Suppose I'm just lucky
I'm having a shin dig
Me, Red Bob and the ivory host
And someone's shouting on the box
A chinless prefect gone Godzilla
My newest friends have forgotten my name
But so have I, so far so good and home
You and me trampoline and oceans of crash site love

What can be said of the cigarette smokes
A prop for a joke or a mark on the clock
If I stopped would the bus ever come
Would the dawn ever kiss me, forgiven me, knowing what's done
Would the drivel make scribble make sense and then song
Would the woodbines denied like the northern man's thumbs
Perverse as it may sound I sometimes believe
The tip to my lips just reminds me to breathe

What can be said of the whiskey and wine
Random abandon or ballast for joy
That was scuppered with trust, little more than a boy
And besides I'm in excellent company
I'm reaching the age when decisions are made
On life and living and I'm sure last ditch
That'll I'll ask for more time
But mother forgive me
I'll still want a bottle of good Irish whiskey and a bundle of smokes in my grave

But there isn't words yet for the comfort I get
From the gentle lunette at the top of the nape of the neck that I wake to

And where are the words for the leap in my chest
When mischief appears either side of the scar on your nose
Made by a rose thorn, so you claim
By a rose thorn


Lyrics submitted by niteflite01, edited by koreanbodega, Rdxl, benderunit, oddJedi, warhorus

"Fly Boy Blue/Lunette" as written by Guy Edward John Garvey Craig Lee Potter

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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Fly Boy Blue/Lunette song meanings
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  • +2
    Song MeaningI believe more of what he's saying is something that I myself, as an about to be 45 year old man is thinking about. The Elbow guys are all rounding that 40 corner. Lunette is about that.

    He's asking is there anything useful about ciggies? If I didn't light one wouldn't the bus appear exactly at that moment? (Old smoker joke... and eerily accurate!) Were they an integral part of all of those song writing sessions? And if he didn't smoke them he'd just be leaving them to someone else to buy right (making playful excuses)

    This line is intriguing

    "Perverse as it may sound I sometimes believe
    The tip to my lips just reminds me to breathe."

    It's not about him breathing in the smoke, it's about him simply being calm and grounded and existing! Living in the moment.

    I believe that later part about life and (I think) liver is getting at the fact that our bodies aren't going to hold out for ever so we have to make a choice whether to continue to batter our bodies with the drinking and smoking which is unhealthy or do we commit to trying to live a few extra years by cutting out the crap? But still as a symbol of his fun and freewheeling life he wants to be buried with a good whiskey and some smokes.All as a wink and a nod to those he leaves behind.

    "But there isn't words yet for the comfort I get
    From the gentle lunette at the top of the nape of the neck
    That I wake to."

    He's deeply in love with the person in the bed beside him.

    "And where are the words for the leap in my chest
    When mischief appears either side of the scar on your nose
    Made by a rose thorn?
    So you claim, by a rose thorn."

    She's made a mystery for him to unravel and it may take a few extra years before he finds out the true story of the scars he finds so endearing. He's thinking, she's totally worth being around a few extra years for and giving up these other things that he only holds dear in certain memories.
    LeGiffon March 13, 2014   Link
  • 0
    General CommentMight just be my ear, but the line "on life and living" sounds more like "on life and liver" to me. It'd chime with the subject matter and sounds like the kind of half-rhyme Guy Garvey might slip into a line like that.

    As for the song, I like how the two halves contrast. The more complicated, spiky lyric of Fly Boy Blue and then the simplicity of Lunette, musing on the relative comforts of cigarettes, alcohol and a girl's neck. The subject matter is so simple and yet he finds so much beauty in them. The first verse of Lunette almost makes me want to take up smoking. I won't, though.
    knevilleon January 20, 2014   Link
  • 0
    General CommentThis is my go at the "Lunette" lyrics. I can't stop listening.

    What can be said of the cigarette smokes:
    A prop for a joke or a mark on the clock?
    If I stopped would the bus ever come?
    Would the dawn ever kiss me--forgiving me--knowing what's done?

    Would the drivel make scribble make sense and then song
    Were the woodbines denied? Black another man's lungs.
    Perverse as it may sound I sometimes believe
    The tip to my lips just reminds me to breathe.

    What can be said of the whiskey and wine:
    Random abandon or ballast for joy
    That was scuppered with trust as little more than a boy?
    And besides I'm in excellent company.

    I'm reaching the age when decisions are made
    On life and living, and I'm sure last ditch
    That'll I'll ask for more time, but mother forgive me
    I still want a bottle of good Irish whiskey
    And a bundle of smokes in my grave.

    But there isn't words yet for the comfort I get
    From the gentle lunette at the top of the nape of the neck
    That I wake to.

    And where are the words for the leap in my chest
    When mischief appears either side of the scar on your nose
    Made by a rose thorn?
    So you claim, by a rose thorn.
    PANICatTheHayleyon January 21, 2014   Link
  • 0
    Song Meaningso i think i know what lunette is about, the first 2 verses describe 1 - his love for smoking which describes in detail 2- his love for drinking again described in detail then the next verses he is basically saying that he loves waking up to the subject so much that he can't even describe it.

    though before the last bit it seems like 'cigarettes and alcohol' if it was written by Wordsworth, which is pretty funny
    ndawgon February 04, 2014   Link
  • 0
    Song MeaningWhen Elbow frontman Guy Garvey split from his longtime partner Emma Unsworth, he felt he had to get away. Having developed an affection for New York, he upped sticks and moved to the Big Apple. The imagery and characters of this song are adapted from scenes he observed at JFK airport lounge as Garvey flitted back and forth between New York and his home city of Manchester. "In an airport lounge, the whole world is going its separate ways, under this cloud of anticipation that exists in all airports," he told The Independent. "It throws up where you're going, where you've been, what you like, what you don't, and it gave me an opportunity to create some new characters in Red Bob and The Ivory Host, who were a man with high blood-pressure desperate for a drinking-partner in a plastic Irish pub in JFK airport, and our very pallid but austere barman."

    The Lunette part of the song is a love song to three things; smoking, drinking and a woman.
    niteflite01on March 19, 2014   Link
  • 0
    MemoryMy comment has absolutely nothing to do with the meaning of this song, but rather its use in my oldest and most cherished dream. It was the dream that made me realise that I was falling in love with her, my "la douleur exquise," my unattainable perfection. As far as I can remember, this is my only good recurring dream; the rest are all horrible... but this one is different. I'll try to describe the dream as best I can so you can visualise it, but I'm not the world's greatest storyteller by any means. Oh well. Let's give it a go.

    *********************************************************************************************

    *At this point, Fly Boy Blue begins playing*

    I was cruising through a rainy London in a pitch black 1954 Jaguar XK140, a wool cap on my head and a smile on my face. The streets were completely devoid of people; no London cabs ferrying their drunken passengers from bar to bar, no double-decker buses, no cyclists to slow me down. I pushed that old cat as hard as I could, my foot to the floor on the straights, and my hands gripping the wheel tightly in the curves. It responded well for such an old car; everything was in such good working order that it was like time had passed this brilliant machine by. The lights of Shaftesbury Avenue shone on the glistening road as the straight six thundered along, its roar reverberating off the walls and echoing through the city. I turned onto Piccadilly, and found that familiar place, where I knew the food was good, and the people were even better. I spied my mates outside the pub, and found a decent parking spot. I carefully parked the Jag, and got out to greet the night.

    As I locked the car, I met with my friends outside. We had a quick chat; we caught up with each other's lives, and walked through the front door. At dinner, we laughed, joked, and did the things that all friends do. But then they had to leave. It was bittersweet, but it was all well and good in the end. After all, I was waiting for someone.

    *Fly Boy Blue ends; Lunette begins*

    After they left, I remained, chatting with the barman, and watching the regular crowd stream in. I saw the one face in the crowd that I had been looking for; the one that I saw in my dreams, and the one I had been longing to see. She smiled when she saw me, for she knew that she was the reason why I stayed behind. She sat down next to me, and after she greeted the barman, turned towards me. Her striking eyes met mine, and I couldn't help but smile.

    "Haven't seen you in a while," she told me, as she let her curly hair tumble down to her shoulders. "It's good to see you again."

    "It's good to see you too," I reply. "It's been far too long."

    I turned to the barman. Without a word he smiled and nodded while he poured a pint of Guinness Stout. Perfect, as always. I turned back towards the woman beside me, and we began to talk, just like we always did. As we discussed everything from the weather to politics, the crowd in the pub slowly began to stream out. Soon, it was just the barman, myself, and her.

    "How long have we been here?" she asked. "Seems like we do this every time. It's like time has stood still. "

    "Maybe it has," I answered her. "Maybe it still is doing. Maybe just for us, time stands still."

    In that instant, I thought of the car. We were like that old Jaguar parked out on the street. For seven decades, time had passed that car by. Throughout its life, that car had seen many things; millions of people come and go, wars won, wars lost, peacetime, and times of anarchy. But that faithful old six cylinder engine still ran the same as when it rolled off the line, just because it had loving owners that took good care of it. It was then that we realised that we could stop time forever, right then and there.

    And so we did.

    As the last call bell sounded, we rose together. I bid the barman goodbye, and he smiled and raised his hand in a salute. The cold, damp air outside clawed at our skin, and we held each other close as we walked to the car. We closed the doors to our little sanctuary, slightly warmer, but still cold enough to see the mist of our breath on the air. I turned the key, and the old Jag roared to life, its headlights illuminating columns of fire on the asphalt. I put the antique car into gear, and began to drive back to the flat. She rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes.

    And in that moment, time stood still.

    *********************************************************************************************

    I know you're out there in the night. Will you ever read this? Doubt it. But one thing I know for sure is, that you will always be my biggest "what if." You will always be that girl, the one that stood with me in the rain on that cool London night. But I'll have to keep this to myself, because you never saw me the way I saw you; I was "stubborn, selfish, and too old." Oh well, that doesn't matter anyway. You will always be the one. You still make time stand still whenever you're near... I just wish it would be for longer. I will never forget you.
    SirJamesLesteron April 11, 2016   Link

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