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Kings Of Convenience
Kings Of Convenience




Альбом Kings Of Convenience


Riot on an Empty Street (21.06.2004)
21.06.2004
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Know How (feat. Feist)
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
The Build Up (feat. Feist)
. . .



I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy
but I can't stop listening to the sound
of two soft voices blended in perfection
from the reels of this record that I've found

every day there's a boy in the mirror asking me:
what are you doing here?
finding all my previous motives growing increasingly unclear
<a href="http://www.testimania.com/">Testi Canzoni</a>
I've traveled far and I've burned all the bridges
I believed as soon as I hit land
all the other options held before me
would wither in the light of my plan

so I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy
but there's only one thing on my mind
searching boxes underneath the counter
on a chance that on a tape I'd find

a song for someone who needs somewhere to long for
homesick because I no longer know where home is


. . .



If you want to be my friend, and you want us to get along
please do not expect me to wrap it up and keep it there
the observation I am doing could easily be understood as cynical demeanour
but one of us misread, what do you know, it happened again
<a href="http://www.testimania.com/">Testi Canzoni</a>
a friend is not a means you utilize to get somewhere
somehow didn't notice, friendship is an end
what do you know, it happened again

how come no one told me, all throughout history
the loneliest people were the ones who always spoke their truth
the ones who made a difference withstanding indifference
I guess it's up to me now, should I take that risk, or just smile?
what do you know, it happened again


. . .



Through the alleyways to cool off in the shadows
then into the street following the water
there's a bearded man paddling in his canoe
looks as if he has come all the way from the cayman islands

these canals, it seems, they all go in circles
places look the same, and we're the only difference
the wind is in your hair, it's covering my view
I'm holding on to you, on a bike we've hired until tomorrow

if only they could see, if only they had been here
they would understand, how someone could have chosen
to go the length I've gone, to spend just one day riding
holding on to you, I never thought it would be this clear


. . .



I walked around for hours, two ten pence pieces in my hand
I was alone and freezing, still trying hard to understand you

I left the others knowing I had to work this by myself
but now the feeling's growing, I would be better off with their help
<a href="http://www.testimania.com/">Testi Canzoni</a>
so baby, what we've got has lately, not been enough

I wish I had your scarf still, that once embraced and kept me warm.
I wish you could be with me, in these last days when I am still hopelessly poor

stay out of trouble, stay in touch
try not to think about me to much


. . .



Riding on this know-how
never been here before
peculiarly entrusted, possibly that's all
is history recorded?
does someone have a tape?
surely, I'm no pioneer
constellations stay the same

just a little bit of danger
when intriguingly, our little secret
trusts that you trust me
'cause no one will ever know, that this was happening
so tell me why you listen, when nobody's talking

what is there to know?
all this is what it is
you and me alone
sheer simplicity


. . .



Five weeks in a prison, I made no friends
there's more time to be done, but I've got a week to spend
I didn't pay much attention first time around
but now you're hard not to notice, right here in my town
where the stage of my old life meets the cast of the new
tonights actors: me and you

each day is taking us closer, while drawing the curtains to close
this far, or further, I need to know
your increasingly long embraces, are they saying sorry or please?
I don't know what's happening, help me

through the streets, on the corners, there's a scent in the air
I ask you out and I lead you, I know my way around here
there's a bench I remember, and on the way there I find
that the movements you're making, are mirrored in mine
and your hand is held open, intentionally
or just what I want to see?

your increasingly long embraces, are they saying sorry or please?
I don't know what's happening, help me
I don't normally beg for assistance, I rely on my own eyes to see
but right now they make no sense to me
right now you make no sense to me


. . .



All I do is sleep all day, and think of you
a memory of the cushion life I'm clinging to
the image of a mutual one, our haven
the sombre chords of our song, the fading

love is no big truth
driven by our genes, we are simple selfish beings
a symphony that's you
joyously awaking the ignorant and sleeping

passion and its brother hate, they come and go
could easily be made to stay for longer though
many people play this game so willingly
do I have to be like them, or be lonely?

love is no big truth
driven by our genes, we are simple selfish beings
a symphony that's you
joyously awaking the ignorant and sleeping

I'll never need it again


. . .



I'd rather dance with you than talk with you
so why don't we just move into the other room
there's space for us to shake, and hey, I like this tune

even if I could hear what you said
I doubt my reply would be interesting for you to hear
because I haven't read a single book all year
and the only film I saw, I didn't like it at all

I'd rather dance than talk with you

the music's too loud and the noise from the crowd
increases the chance of misinterpretation
so let your hips do the talking
I'll make you laugh by acting like the guy who sings
and you'll make me smile by really getting into the swing

I'd rather dance than talk with you


. . .



Summerchild that sits by the water
weaving sunlight threads in his hands
the golden river that day a shelter
a stream where he could make pebbles dance

you looked around you, nobody had taken
any notice of what you saw: against the evening sky a formation
a million black birds looking like one

live long
save ten years to remember
live long
hold it in front of your eyes once more


. . .



When past sometimes takes you with soft hands
forcelessly pulls you to your chair
hides you away from these half days
sunless at the end of the year
the air is like a knife cutting through you
a room in the house is always warm
stretched out on the bathroom floor thinking
of fair days your future may hold

love comes like surprise ice on the water
love comes like surprise ice at dawn
love comes like surprise ice on the water
love comes at dawn

deprived of the light and of the colours
the world ends at your window tree
darkness creates these illusions
but pale days can teach you to see
rain falls but no life is given
weeks pass no progress is made

past sometimes takes you with soft hands
and all that surrounds you will fade


. . .



Without giving anything away, I can say it's by the sea
it's a house that used to be the home of a friend of mine
without giving anything away, you'll find ships inside of bottles
and the garden's overgrown, the house is white but the paint is coming of

I didn't know if you wanted to, when I came to pick you up
you didn't even hesitate, and now you and me are on our way
I think I've brought everything we need so don't look back
don't think of the other places you should have been
it's a good thing that you came along with me

gold in the air of summer
you'll shine like gold in the air of summer


. . .



The build up lasted for days
lasted for weeks, lasted too long

our hero withdrew, when there was two
he could not choose one, so there was none

worn into the vaguely announced

the spinning top made a sound like a train across the valley
fading, oh so quiet but constant 'til it passed
over the ridge into the distances
written on your ticket to remind you where to stop
and when to get off


. . .


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