1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
All these folky folk singers are * wet
I want to get them and let them listen through
To some cloud rap, a little noise to name two of a few
But I've got better things to do
See the sky around me
My way's not been blue now for days
And the moon's been hiding behind the clouds in opal shades
And it rains and it came down hot, harsh and sideways
But the oak trees, believe me, ain't no joke
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
on hopsite
Left the grey city for the peace choir, the green
Apart from my music and peephole I don't miss a thing
As what I've been I won't be again
Too right I've changed
And if you ain't, that's your problem
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
See these songs fall upon me at weird times
Far I am and I'm up right in this hill I'm
By the glow of my mobile phone
Low light
Low shadow
By my bedside
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
Round my way
