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The Escapist

This song is by The Streets and appears on the album Everything Is Borrowed (2008).

Original video
LyricWiki-SongOfTheDay
Song of the Day
August 23, 2014
All these walls were never really there
Nor the ceiling or the chair
I'm eking weeks of peace on a beach
I see the breezes weave the trees
These walls, you'll find, are yours and mine
Defined not by them, I
I'm in times that lie behind my eyelids
The sunset still the rising silence

I'll not feel no fear
Cos' I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here

There's no rain on roof that grates and beats me
My favourite tree breaking light to pieces
Sprinkling, sharded light on me
Throw a stone as high as you can
And hearing with hand not hear it land
Nothing taxing, dusting sand
My window world spins and twirls
The walls then fall, I recall the sort
White clouds white wash faded spotless
The weighty shadows, ranges of rocks
The cold is all illusion thought up
Stroll on the shore, snooze and explore
All possibilities in each new morning
'Til satisfied reaching out, yawning
Fish in a big dish, some rice and spice
Salt over shoulder, never salted so tight
The truth I have told was silence sometimes
But who's soul does not hide any crimes?
Wrapped in walls, encircled by work
The walls fall - the story occurs
No barrier, no boundary or 'low us ID's (Tick tick tick tick)
The freedom to stay or stray
Be fiend or friend, cause no harm but charm - the peaceful end

I'll not feel no fear
Cos' I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here
I'll not feel no fear
Cos' I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here

Pale ancient woods, strew white sandy bays
This ugly room pales away today
I'm swimming in the ocean
I sink slow motion
Fingers, toes, floating
Every year 'til yesterday
Has seen the eternal setting sea
I compare all this to me;
Little, fleeting, momentary me
I blink my eyes, this is reminding me
Life lies in the blink of an eye
The old die for reasons
New tides, four seasons
New life born is like sneezing
All these walls were really never there
Nor the ceiling or the chair
I'm eking weeks of peace on a beach
I see the breezes weave the trees
I'm not here at all
You're dearly fooled
I see bristling trees, the shush of the sea
Mischievous fluttering seagulls
No - I'm not trapped in a box
I'm glancing at rocks
I'm dancing off docks
Since this dance began
That's where I am

I'll not feel no fear
Cos' I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here
I'll not feel no fear
Cos' I'm not really here
I'm nowhere near here

So done

Written by:

Mike Skinner

External links