[00:16.60]From the banister I can see you,
[00:20.03]Cough and blast rainbows
[00:25.10]
[00:32.00]27 summers press against the powder room windows
[00:39.88]On returning eyes are learning the language of your wrists
[01:01.02]You twist them towards the chandeliers and say 'who will be my witness?'
[01:15.83]On a beaded rug on Jerusalem Hill watching the trawlers roll in
[01:27.89]Let's start at the beginning, the drunk shouts who your tailor on the preference
[01:38.77]Of a power failure slashing out its darkness
[01:46.71]The steeple riggers round the spire scramble
[01:53.96]For holy work lights on great hooks hanging
[02:01.58]You straighten your quiff and mimic a stiff
[02:05.58]The jury's back and it's a crushing blow
[02:09.21]To those who wish you ill and woe
[02:14.58]You are the Lake District
[02:22.02]You don't need to speak
[02:25.33]Writes in the air and chalk
[02:28.58]Like sub titles walk across a foreign film screen
[02:40.46]From the landing I can hear your hay bale laughter singing
[02:54.71]It breaks the white horse hearts, of all those assembling
[03:08.71]To be an ornament that sparkles
[03:14.46]It's clear those here would kill
[03:23.64]But there's nowhere to hide if you become a city on the hill
[03:40.63]On a beated road on Jerusalem hill, watching the trollops roll in
[03:49.63]Let's start at the beginning, in a dingy parlour by lanterns swinging
[03:59.94]But the ancient caverns of your eyes, welling
[04:04.07]
[04:07.57]The tale of Russian head scarf, landing
[04:14.57]On your collar bone from your blouse, protruding
[04:22.07]You tighten your belt so it's closer felt
[04:26.20]The jury's back and it's a crushing blow
[04:29.39]For those who wish your ill and wall
[04:34.76]You are the Lake District
[04:42.20]Marry me
[04:45.13]In a registry
[04:48.51]Like a foreign film scene
[04:59.64]Let others publish our thoughts
[05:06.06]Take my hand and we will waltz
[05:13.12]Below the cathedral volts
[05:18.93]Spinning like a foreign film reel