Losing Haringeygey Lyrics

Song	Losing Haringeygey
Artist	The Clientele
Album	Strange Geometry
Download	Image LRC TXT

[00:01.000]	作词:Alasdair MacLean
[00:02.000]	作曲:The Clientele,Alasdair MacLean
[00:05.342]	"In those days, there was a kind of fever that pushed me out of the front door, into the pale,
[00:09.522]	exhaust-fumed park by Broadwater Farm or the grubby road that eventually leads to Enfield:
[00:15.216]	turkish supermarket after chicken restaurant after spare car part shop.
[00:19.187]	Everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close:
[00:22.687]	I could hardly walk to the end of a street without feeling there was no way to go except back.
[00:27.154]	The dates I’d had that summer had come to nothing,
[00:29.766]	my job was a dead end and the rent cheque was killing me a little more each month.
[00:33.711]	It seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer.
[00:36.428]	The only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed,
[00:41.417]	but for now the summer stretched between me and that moment.
[00:43.977]
[00:44.787]	It was ferociously hot,
[00:46.276]	and the air quality became so bad that by the evening
[00:48.914]	the noise of nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts,
[00:53.277]	distorted through the shifting air.
[00:55.523]	As I lay in the cool of my room,
[00:58.292]	I could hear my neighbours discussing the world cup and opening beers in their gardens.
[01:00.904]	On the other side, someone was singing an Arabic prayer through the thin wall.
[01:04.901]	I had no money for the pub so I decided to go for a walk.
[01:07.905]
[01:09.028]	I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west,
[01:11.928]	past the terrace of chip and kebab shops and laundrettes near the tube station.
[01:16.160]	I crossed the street, and headed into virgin territory - I had never been this way before.
[01:20.836]	Gravel-dashed houses alternated with square 60s offices,
[01:24.493]	and the wide pavements undulated with cracks and litter.
[01:27.680]	I walked and walked, because there was nothing else for me to do,
[01:30.684]	and by degrees the light began to fade.
[01:32.878]
[01:33.897]	The mouth of an avenue led me to the verge of a long,
[01:36.483]	greasy A-road that rose up in the far distance,
[01:39.357]	with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down then up again from a distant railway station.
[01:45.313]	There were four benches to my right,
[01:47.611]	interspersed with those strange bushes that grow in the area,
[01:50.093]	whose blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent, almost spectral; and suddenly tired,
[01:55.056]	I sat down.
[01:56.885]	I held my head in my hands, feeling like ****,
[01:59.758]	but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment
[02:02.606]	I lost my thoughts in its unexpected coolness.
[02:05.897]	I looked up and I realised I was sitting in a photograph.
[02:08.901]
[02:10.260]	I remembered clearly:
[02:11.879]	this photograph was taken by my mother in 1982, outside our front garden in Hampshire.
[02:16.529]	It was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting on the bench,
[02:19.820]	but the colours and the planes of the road and horizon had become the photo.
[02:24.496]	If I looked hard,
[02:26.194]	I could see the lines of the window ledge in the original photograph were now composed
[02:28.545]	by a tree branch and the silhouetted edge of a grass verge.
[02:32.751]	The sheen of the flash on the window was replicated
[02:35.233]	by bonfire smoke drifting infinitesimally slowly from behind a fence.
[02:40.117]	My sister’s face had been dimly visible behind the window,
[02:43.409]	and -yes- there were pale stars far off to the west that traced out the lines of a toddler’s eyes and mouth.
[02:49.731]
[02:50.070]	When I look back at this there’s nothing to grasp, no starting point.
[02:52.395]	I was inside an underexposed photo from 1982 but I was also sitting on a bench in Haringey.
[02:59.344]
[03:00.232]	Strongest of all was the feeling of 1982-ness: dizzy, illogical,
[03:04.829]	as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet.
[03:08.617]	I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back - to school,
[03:14.103]	the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my mother’s car.
[03:18.178]	All gone, gone forever.
[03:19.249]
[03:20.424]	I just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn’t bother trying to work out what was going on.
[03:25.492]	I was happy just to sit in the photo while it lasted,
[03:28.392]	which wasn’t for long anyway: the light faded, the wind caught the smoke,
[03:31.866]	the stars dimmed under the glare of the streetlamps.
[03:34.635]	I got up and walked away from the squat little benches and an oncoming gang of kids.
[03:38.475]
[03:39.363]	A bus was rumbling to my rescue down the hill, with a great big ‘via Alexandra Palace’ on its front,
[03:45.502]	and I realised I did want a drink after all."

[00:01.000]	zuo ci: Alasdair MacLean
[00:02.000]	zuo qu: The Clientele, Alasdair MacLean
[00:05.342]	" In those days, there was a kind of fever that pushed me out of the front door, into the pale,
[00:09.522]	exhaustfumed park by Broadwater Farm or the grubby road that eventually leads to Enfield:
[00:15.216]	turkish supermarket after chicken restaurant after spare car part shop.
[00:19.187]	Everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close:
[00:22.687]	I could hardly walk to the end of a street without feeling there was no way to go except back.
[00:27.154]	The dates I' d had that summer had come to nothing,
[00:29.766]	my job was a dead end and the rent cheque was killing me a little more each month.
[00:33.711]	It seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer.
[00:36.428]	The only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed,
[00:41.417]	but for now the summer stretched between me and that moment.
[00:43.977]
[00:44.787]	It was ferociously hot,
[00:46.276]	and the air quality became so bad that by the evening
[00:48.914]	the noise of nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts,
[00:53.277]	distorted through the shifting air.
[00:55.523]	As I lay in the cool of my room,
[00:58.292]	I could hear my neighbours discussing the world cup and opening beers in their gardens.
[01:00.904]	On the other side, someone was singing an Arabic prayer through the thin wall.
[01:04.901]	I had no money for the pub so I decided to go for a walk.
[01:07.905]
[01:09.028]	I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west,
[01:11.928]	past the terrace of chip and kebab shops and laundrettes near the tube station.
[01:16.160]	I crossed the street, and headed into virgin territory I had never been this way before.
[01:20.836]	Graveldashed houses alternated with square 60s offices,
[01:24.493]	and the wide pavements undulated with cracks and litter.
[01:27.680]	I walked and walked, because there was nothing else for me to do,
[01:30.684]	and by degrees the light began to fade.
[01:32.878]
[01:33.897]	The mouth of an avenue led me to the verge of a long,
[01:36.483]	greasy Aroad that rose up in the far distance,
[01:39.357]	with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down then up again from a distant railway station.
[01:45.313]	There were four benches to my right,
[01:47.611]	interspersed with those strange bushes that grow in the area,
[01:50.093]	whose blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent, almost spectral and suddenly tired,
[01:55.056]	I sat down.
[01:56.885]	I held my head in my hands, feeling like ,
[01:59.758]	but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment
[02:02.606]	I lost my thoughts in its unexpected coolness.
[02:05.897]	I looked up and I realised I was sitting in a photograph.
[02:08.901]
[02:10.260]	I remembered clearly:
[02:11.879]	this photograph was taken by my mother in 1982, outside our front garden in Hampshire.
[02:16.529]	It was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting on the bench,
[02:19.820]	but the colours and the planes of the road and horizon had become the photo.
[02:24.496]	If I looked hard,
[02:26.194]	I could see the lines of the window ledge in the original photograph were now composed
[02:28.545]	by a tree branch and the silhouetted edge of a grass verge.
[02:32.751]	The sheen of the flash on the window was replicated
[02:35.233]	by bonfire smoke drifting infinitesimally slowly from behind a fence.
[02:40.117]	My sister' s face had been dimly visible behind the window,
[02:43.409]	and yes there were pale stars far off to the west that traced out the lines of a toddler' s eyes and mouth.
[02:49.731]
[02:50.070]	When I look back at this there' s nothing to grasp, no starting point.
[02:52.395]	I was inside an underexposed photo from 1982 but I was also sitting on a bench in Haringey.
[02:59.344]
[03:00.232]	Strongest of all was the feeling of 1982ness: dizzy, illogical,
[03:04.829]	as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet.
[03:08.617]	I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back to school,
[03:14.103]	the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my mother' s car.
[03:18.178]	All gone, gone forever.
[03:19.249]
[03:20.424]	I just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn' t bother trying to work out what was going on.
[03:25.492]	I was happy just to sit in the photo while it lasted,
[03:28.392]	which wasn' t for long anyway: the light faded, the wind caught the smoke,
[03:31.866]	the stars dimmed under the glare of the streetlamps.
[03:34.635]	I got up and walked away from the squat little benches and an oncoming gang of kids.
[03:38.475]
[03:39.363]	A bus was rumbling to my rescue down the hill, with a great big ' via Alexandra Palace' on its front,
[03:45.502]	and I realised I did want a drink after all."

[00:01.000]	zuò cí: Alasdair MacLean
[00:02.000]	zuò qǔ: The Clientele, Alasdair MacLean
[00:05.342]	" In those days, there was a kind of fever that pushed me out of the front door, into the pale,
[00:09.522]	exhaustfumed park by Broadwater Farm or the grubby road that eventually leads to Enfield:
[00:15.216]	turkish supermarket after chicken restaurant after spare car part shop.
[00:19.187]	Everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close:
[00:22.687]	I could hardly walk to the end of a street without feeling there was no way to go except back.
[00:27.154]	The dates I' d had that summer had come to nothing,
[00:29.766]	my job was a dead end and the rent cheque was killing me a little more each month.
[00:33.711]	It seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer.
[00:36.428]	The only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed,
[00:41.417]	but for now the summer stretched between me and that moment.
[00:43.977]
[00:44.787]	It was ferociously hot,
[00:46.276]	and the air quality became so bad that by the evening
[00:48.914]	the noise of nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts,
[00:53.277]	distorted through the shifting air.
[00:55.523]	As I lay in the cool of my room,
[00:58.292]	I could hear my neighbours discussing the world cup and opening beers in their gardens.
[01:00.904]	On the other side, someone was singing an Arabic prayer through the thin wall.
[01:04.901]	I had no money for the pub so I decided to go for a walk.
[01:07.905]
[01:09.028]	I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west,
[01:11.928]	past the terrace of chip and kebab shops and laundrettes near the tube station.
[01:16.160]	I crossed the street, and headed into virgin territory I had never been this way before.
[01:20.836]	Graveldashed houses alternated with square 60s offices,
[01:24.493]	and the wide pavements undulated with cracks and litter.
[01:27.680]	I walked and walked, because there was nothing else for me to do,
[01:30.684]	and by degrees the light began to fade.
[01:32.878]
[01:33.897]	The mouth of an avenue led me to the verge of a long,
[01:36.483]	greasy Aroad that rose up in the far distance,
[01:39.357]	with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down then up again from a distant railway station.
[01:45.313]	There were four benches to my right,
[01:47.611]	interspersed with those strange bushes that grow in the area,
[01:50.093]	whose blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent, almost spectral and suddenly tired,
[01:55.056]	I sat down.
[01:56.885]	I held my head in my hands, feeling like ,
[01:59.758]	but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment
[02:02.606]	I lost my thoughts in its unexpected coolness.
[02:05.897]	I looked up and I realised I was sitting in a photograph.
[02:08.901]
[02:10.260]	I remembered clearly:
[02:11.879]	this photograph was taken by my mother in 1982, outside our front garden in Hampshire.
[02:16.529]	It was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting on the bench,
[02:19.820]	but the colours and the planes of the road and horizon had become the photo.
[02:24.496]	If I looked hard,
[02:26.194]	I could see the lines of the window ledge in the original photograph were now composed
[02:28.545]	by a tree branch and the silhouetted edge of a grass verge.
[02:32.751]	The sheen of the flash on the window was replicated
[02:35.233]	by bonfire smoke drifting infinitesimally slowly from behind a fence.
[02:40.117]	My sister' s face had been dimly visible behind the window,
[02:43.409]	and yes there were pale stars far off to the west that traced out the lines of a toddler' s eyes and mouth.
[02:49.731]
[02:50.070]	When I look back at this there' s nothing to grasp, no starting point.
[02:52.395]	I was inside an underexposed photo from 1982 but I was also sitting on a bench in Haringey.
[02:59.344]
[03:00.232]	Strongest of all was the feeling of 1982ness: dizzy, illogical,
[03:04.829]	as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet.
[03:08.617]	I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back to school,
[03:14.103]	the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my mother' s car.
[03:18.178]	All gone, gone forever.
[03:19.249]
[03:20.424]	I just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn' t bother trying to work out what was going on.
[03:25.492]	I was happy just to sit in the photo while it lasted,
[03:28.392]	which wasn' t for long anyway: the light faded, the wind caught the smoke,
[03:31.866]	the stars dimmed under the glare of the streetlamps.
[03:34.635]	I got up and walked away from the squat little benches and an oncoming gang of kids.
[03:38.475]
[03:39.363]	A bus was rumbling to my rescue down the hill, with a great big ' via Alexandra Palace' on its front,
[03:45.502]	and I realised I did want a drink after all."

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