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The Moon And Me

by Chris Webb

/
1.
In mid-November I found a mother And whilst I remember I found me too See I had lost me, did it on purpose Sea breeze had cost me A bob or two So what's in the stream there? Is it a rock pool? A stepping stone dear To trap a fool Or just a bridge, love To keep us all I learned the hard way I like to slumber Without a pit stop To rest a child Who knew a family was what was waiting Thought I was 24 And feeling wild But what's in the stream there? So now I laugh cause, I'm the other third not The other half like It usually goes This mother's child is her little sidekick With the other side for Me to go So what's in the stream there?
2.
The last time I saw you your face was a blotch My hands start to shake and my feet start to swell It was fear all this time that was knotting your hair And pride in a nutshell that kept us from there So drink, all ye stars, and then light up the ball The ghost of the hallway dancer At 7 o clock all the masks start to fall My feet start to tap and the music as well Though deep down I know you're not missing the beat It remains my personal hell So drink, all ye stars, and then light up the ball The ghost of the hallway dancer Last night I was new on a beach with three more The guilt woke me up from the sheets with a wink Sweat on the fingertips couldn't reach for the light And frozen to my pillow, couldn't reach for a drink So drink, all ye stars, and then light up the ball The ghost of the hallway dancer If dreams can unwind you then sleep is a curse And nostalgia can burn in a vat of my songs Like memories, like mind, it's just more of the same I guess that we knew that all along So drink, all ye stars, and then light up the ball The ghost of the hallway dancer So look at you now, with your hair in a bow And look at me too with a friend in the booze You're the same girl now as the one in the dress Looking in the mirror in your ballet shoes So drink, all ye stars, and then light up the ball The ghost of the hallway dancer
3.
La Lune 02:55
A Monday morn, I was dying to meet you With your sweaty hair, a smile from corners of your mouth Always implicitly civil Like an evening bird dying to sing So wake me up, tell my dream Like it's an epic novel and then Pour the tea like it's a devil's brew We drink together and see Where we go, the evening bird Would surely lend us wings for to fly Taste the sky, eat hot toast, lose our shoes I suppose it's true, everyone says it You meet them fast then find them much later Like two lost lights joining in darkness You're my pillow moon, a salient artist So wake me up, tell my dream Like it's an epic novel and then Pour the tea like it's a devil's brew We drink together and see Where we go, the evening bird Would surely lend us wings for to fly Taste the sky, eat hot toast, lose our shoes
4.
Half my life can fit inside my car And half my day can barely be perceived Whilst an hour of yours can take up half a plane With those baby toys falling from your sleeve It was new to me, I used to used to drinking to feel better I want hope for we, the joyous three, dancing in the stormy weather Half the songs I write are in the air Whilst the other half are etched into your face So if I feel down, I know though I need to talk If you feel the same, I'll gift-wrap some breathing space It was new to me, I used to used to drinking to feel better I want hope for we, the joyous three, dancing in the stormy weather If the things that I lack are the things that you need Then embroider my pillow with a message just for me Patch a badge full of hope on the holes in my jeans Patch a megaphone of words, spin the tales into my dreams Because I'm slow and I'm simple, I'm sharp but I'm daft And I'm constantly confused that there's a car seat for a child in my life So forgive me, I'm learning and I quite like you So take the space you need and kiss me through the moon It was new to me, I used to used to drinking to feel better I want hope for we, the joyous three, dancing in the stormy weather

about

An EP of songs I couldn't keep in my possession any longer. Done primarily in one take, the mistakes are left in and, with any luck, the soul too.

credits

released September 30, 2015

Recorded and mixed by Jack Cookson jackcooksonmusic.bandcamp.com

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all rights reserved

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about

Chris Webb Bristol, UK

Dictionary Samba
Wordy folk nonsense
Turtle Jazz
chriswebbmusic@live.com if you want me for something

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