A plague in the workhouse, a plague on the poor
Now I'll beat on my drum 'til I'm dead
Yesterday, a fever, tomorrow, St. Peter
I'll beat on my drum until then.
But what melody will lead my lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?
Set fire to foundation and burn out the station
You'll never get nothing of mine
The pane of my window will flicker and billow
I won't leave a stitching behind
But what melody will lead my lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?
I'll sing of the walls of the well and the house at the top of the hill
I'll sing of the bottles of wine that we left on our old windowsill
I'll sing of the years you will spend getting sadder and older
Oh love, and the cold, the oncoming cold
Now I'll beat on my drum 'til I'm dead
Yesterday, a fever, tomorrow, St. Peter
I'll beat on my drum until then.
But what melody will lead my lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?
Set fire to foundation and burn out the station
You'll never get nothing of mine
The pane of my window will flicker and billow
I won't leave a stitching behind
But what melody will lead my lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?
I'll sing of the walls of the well and the house at the top of the hill
I'll sing of the bottles of wine that we left on our old windowsill
I'll sing of the years you will spend getting sadder and older
Oh love, and the cold, the oncoming cold
Lyrics submitted by cleverername
"Cliquot" as written by Zach Condon Owen Pallett
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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"I’ve taken "Cliquot" to be about the desperate sorrow of the young widow Clicquot, who lost her beloved Francois to sudden fever in 1805. It is a profound sort of grief that no one should have to experience, losing one’s love, but the band manages to turn this tale away from the path toward funereal dirge and instead tranforms "Cliquot" into a hauntingly beautiful hymn."
I was convinced of this especially by the line "You'll never get nothing of mine." By burning the body, no one can take him away from the narrator. Both his physical body is gone, and his memory is preserved in the mind of the lover.
Nevertheless, it's one of my favorite songs on The Flying Club Cup. Beautiful lyrics and music that fits perfectly.
Yes, the song can be in different perspectives. But the song is most likely about two male lovers. Owen himself is gay and he wrote the song. It's silly to think that he wrote it from the girls perspective, and not just about two male lovers.
"I'll sing of the years you will spend getting sadder and older, oh love"
Owen Pallett is amazing.
The fact that his lover is a man doesn't change the song at all. Just because it says His and not Her doesn't change the meaning of the song.
A plague in the workhouse, a plague on the poor
Now I'll beat on my drum 'til I'm dead
Yesterday, a fever, tomorrow, St. Peter
I'll beat on my drum until then.
But what melody will lead my lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?
Set fire to foundation and burn out the station
You'll never get nothing of mine
The pane of my window will flicker and billow
I won't leave a stitching behind
But what melody will lead my lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?
I'll sing of the walls of the well and the house at the top of the hill
I'll sing of the bottles of wine that we left on our old windowsill
I'll sing of the years you will spend getting sadder and older
Oh love, and the cold, the oncoming cold