Boomerang Music >> Simon Frost & Antony Dunn >> Intelligent music for pop kids

MP3 snippets

- Seventeen Years

- Boomerang

- Anna At The Locust Bar

- Coming Up For Air

- Dare Ya

- Three O'Clock In The Morning

- Budapest

- Lullaby

- Garage Song

- Nice Day For It

- Isadora

- Wrong Sides

Seventeen Years

Open wide - are you listening in?
This sound is crawling underneath my skin.

And I've been sitting here all these years,
fingers jammed into my ears,
singing la la la la la la, I can't hear you.

Take advice - are you listening out?
Break the silence, open out your mouth.

And we've been sitting here seventeen years,
fingers jammed into my ears,
singing la la la la la la, I can't hear you.

Here come the bugs, listening in,
flea in your year, banging the drum,
what are we hiding?
Here come the noise, shout it out,
buzzing like a swarm of flies,
let it all out.

Simon says, get your finger out -
make a big noise, don't care what it's all about.

We've been sitting here seventeen years,
fingers jammed into our ears,
singing la la la la la la,
singing la la la la la la,
we can't hear you.

Boomerang

Stuck with one another,
we stick it to each other.

Here she comes, there she goes,
slicing up the sunshine.
Heaven knows she only slows
when she's too far away to be mine.

If I let you go you'll be right back
but I don't know what to expect -
you could wind up in the palm of my hand...
my boomerang...

What do we know, what do we care,
about the wind beneath our wings?
What do we care when we don't expect the sting
or drop the catch or bruise the palm
or shield our eyes or chance our arm
or anything...

Here she comes, there she goes,
going round in circles -
and she throws the highs and lows -
the catch could be fine or fatal.

Here we come, here we go,
running rings round each other.
Even though we ebb and flow
we know we're stuck with one another.

Stuck with one another,
we stick it to each other.
It's hunt to kill, somedays;
somedays it's all a game.

You could wind up in the palm of my hand...
or you could take my hand off.

Anna At The Locust Bar

It's never in the same street twice, she says,
don't know how I'll ever find the door,
but the Locust Bar's my favourite place, she says,
she curls up on the floor.

There's buzzing inside my head, she says,
my vision's going grey,
and I'm hungry all the time, she says,
like it never goes away.

I don't drink to get drunk
but if I start to think I'm sunk,
so I'll tip a wink to any pretty punk
and I'll sing along to any junk.
I don't drink to get high...

Every night I have this dream, she says,
I grow wings and it hurts,
but I'm no bird, no butterfly,
and I'm no angel girl...

There's a slate-grey cloud, don't look like rain
and Anna's at the bar again
and the wind's a billion wings tonight.
She unfolds her arms and sings...

I don't drink to get high
but I'm seeing the world through a compound eye
I'm afraid I'm turning into something.

Coming Up For Air

Save your breath for the big dive,
and brave the bends and thank your stars
that there's this moment in the deep dark
when the weight of air that's bursting in your lungs
must mean you're more than half alive...
and coming up for air.

Save your energy this time
and taste the acid in your blood,
CO2 is taking over
when the weight of water weighing on your mind
means you just can't fathom how
you're coming up for air.

Coming up for air.

Save yourself for the big sky
and brace yourself and black is blue
all this air is bursting too soon
and the weight of silver puring out of you
must mean you're coming back to life
and coming up for air.

I am the ladder, I'm the rope,
I am the life bouy, I'm the boat,
I am the three days in a whale,
I am the pressure chamber.
I am the float-suit, I'm the raft,
I am the flotsum, I'm the mast,
I am the Nautilus afloat,
and you don't need a saviour...

Coming up for air.